


900 days till Oikawa Tooru falls in love

by Aync1lgw



Series: Attempts [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, BAMF Kageyama Tobio, BAMF Oikawa Tooru, Blood and Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Gen, Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru Friendship, Iwaizumi Hajime Is So Done, M/M, Oblivious Oikawa Tooru, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Oikawa Tooru, Protective Oikawa Tooru, Protective Tsukishima Kei, Slow Burn, Spies & Secret Agents, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:20:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 48,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27676637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aync1lgw/pseuds/Aync1lgw
Summary: Oikawa Tooru would swear to anyone, who would listen to him, that he absolutely, totally hated that annoying pest Kageyama Tobio. However, 900 days of working together with the said pest might just be driving him insane enough that he's starting to feel something - something different and scary - about his new partner.That, or maybe it's just indigestion.
Relationships: Kageoi - Relationship, Kageyama Tobio & Oikawa Tooru, Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru, oikage - Relationship
Series: Attempts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2023844
Comments: 45
Kudos: 211





	1. This is how it all began...

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I started writing this as a draft for my other ongoing Haikyuu story, just to sketch out the backgrounds a bit more. However, it kept growing and growing and just took it's own form. I decided to post this as some background reading to supplement my other fanfic. 
> 
> This is a stand alone fic. And for readers of my "You will be the death of me" fic; I apologize for the delay in the updates recently. Hopefully this short multi chapter Oikage goodness will help tide you along till then !
> 
> \--------------------------
> 
> Edit: well this went out of hand faster than I expected. No longer a short story anymore...

**__ **

* * *

**_Day 1: _ **

****

“So, let me get this straight” Oikawa glowered. “You are my new partner?”

Blue impassive eyes started back at him. “Yes.”

Oikawa’s right eye twitched dangerously and he stood rooted to the spot, disbelief rendering him speechless. The new case file he was carrying in his hand suddenly felt like it was heavy enough to pull his arm off. This could not possibly be happening! And to think the morning was going so well for him! He gritted his teeth, turned on the spot and purposefully strode out of the office room, leaving his new partner still standing in between their two desks.

Oikawa fumed, his hand gripping the file folder so tightly that they were effectively crushing the papers that outlined his new case. He didn’t think it was possible for him to feel angrier, but that was before he heard the footsteps hurriedly trying to follow him down the hallway.

"Where are you going?" Kageyama asked, jogging to catch up.

"To see the Deputy Director," Oikawa snapped, feeling murderous by the second as Kageyama’s long strides finally caught up to him. "If this is his idea of a joke, I am not laughing."

Oikawa was vaguely aware that people were giving him a wide berth, getting out of his way and shooting sympathetic glances towards Kageyama as he marched down to the office of the Deputy Director. Right now, he didn’t give two hoots about how unprofessional he was being, if it was up to him, he would have bodily kicked Kageyama out of his office- his office mind you- and slammed the door shut on his face. What the heck was Wakatoshi playing at?

Oikawa had been in the Agency for close to ten years now, having transferred over from the Special Forces at the end of the war, where he was part of the reconnaissance and counter terrorism squad. Ever since then, he had long since resigned himself to the fact that from time to time, he would have to cross paths with Kageyama now and then. It was an occupational hazard, something unavoidable that comes from working in the same place. However, seeing that infuriating bastard from far occasionally and having to share office space with him and worse – to work with him! That was where he drew the line! He hated his guts and that hasn’t changed since their training days. And the very thought of working with him- Oikawa was on the verge of punching someone’s face right now!

Before he knew it, he was standing in front of Wakatoshi’s office. He shook his head, trying to reign in the uncontrollable rage that was threatening to break his composure and taking a deep breath, he sharply rapped at the door.

A pause and then - 

"Come in"

With great restraint, Oikawa stopped himself from kicking the door down and instead, pushed the door open and stormed inside. Kageyama trailed after him, shutting the door behind and from the corner of his eye, Oikawa saw him leaning against it, his arms folded, looking as disinterested as ever.

Ushijima Wakatoshi was in the middle of signing some paperwork and he looked up with a slight frown at Oikawa’s frankly deranged expression and his eyes darted between the seething operative in the middle of his office and the nonchalant one, leaning against the door. Oikawa could almost hear him sigh as the Deputy Director pushed his papers away and turned his full attention to him.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Special Agent Oikawa?"

Oikawa knew he was overstepping his bounds, but he was so furious right now, he could hardly bring himself to care.

“I want a different partner assigned to me.”

Ushijima raised an eyebrow.

“Oh? And what is wrong with the current partner assigned to you?”

“Nothing”, Oikawa replied, forcing himself not to start pacing up and down the room, or to throw the file clutched in his hand at the Deputy Director’s face. That would not be good now would it? “He is a brilliant agent and I believe he would do much better if he was assigned to someone else.”

Ushijima didn’t say anything, just continued to look at Oikawa with mild interest. By this point, Oikawa decided to throw all caution to the wind and barged ahead. “Why is he being reassigned? Him and his current partner together are the best team we have. Why break it up and bring me into the picture?”

“You are letting your emotions override the facts, Agent Oikawa.” Ushijima said sharply, his face no longer amused. “I do not have to explain my reasons as to why I want you both in the same team.”

“No Sir”, Oikawa gritted his teeth. “I am not questioning your decisions. I am asking you to reconsider.”

He saw Ushijima’s glance flicker towards Kageyama. “And do you feel the same way as well, Agent Kageyama?” Ushijima’s voice was controlled but there was no mistaking the tone of disapproval in his question. To Oikawa’s mild surprise, Kageyama seemed to hesitate for a moment. What the heck! Was that bastard so ignorant that he didn’t even realize how much Oikawa loathed him?

“I have no problems Deputy Director.”

“It’s settled then” Ushijima said dismissively, picking up the paperwork he was looking at before Oikawa had marched into his office and gestured to them both to leave. “I will let you two get started on the new case.”

Oikawa was too stunned to speak. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He closed it and tried again but whatever he was going to say was drowned out by the door slamming shut. Kageyama had left the office and it was just him standing in front of Ushijima’s desk, gaping at him like an idiot.

“You can’t do this to me Wakatoshi” He hissed furiously, finally slamming the stupid file he had been carrying on to the table. “Look, you want me to beg? I am more than willing to do so. Just don’t do this to me- you can’t do this to me.”

Ushijima looked up at him and for a second, his face almost gave away his guilt.

“I know Tooru”, he sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “I know this is difficult for you- “

“Difficult?” He let out a sharp laugh and even to his own ears, Oikawa sounded a bit demented. “Try impossible! You know how I feel about that guy! You know! You were there! After all these years, now you want me to make nice and forget everything?”

“I am not asking you to forget anything” Ushijima stood up and walked around the desk to stand in front of Oikawa. “I think you need to let go of your grudge and move forward. It was a long time ago, Tooru. We are a long way from being teenagers, don’t let your personal feelings blind you to the possibilities.”

“The only possibility I can see is me strangling Tobio chan to death as soon as I get back to my office.”

Ushijima almost smiled, stopping himself at the last second. “Now now Tooru”, he gently squeezed his shoulder. “No bloodshed. And trust me, I know what I am doing.”

“Do you?” he snapped, pushing Ushijima’s hand away and starting to pace the room, his right hand shaking slightly as he gripped his hair in frustration.

“It might seem cruel to you now” Ushijima continued, “but give it a chance. Plus, the paperwork has already gone through and Director Shimizu has already approved.”

Oikawa spun towards him in horror. “No! Wakatoshi! tell me you are joking!”

Ushijima squirmed uncomfortably. “I am not. Shimizu signed those papers last night and it’s already official. If you still want out, you will have to take it up with the Director herself.”

Oikawa hung his head in defeat.

***************************************************************************

**_ Day 73: _ **

Oikawa had always known, since the time they had met during their first Special Ops training session, that those blue eyes would be the bane of his existence. And here he was, 10 years later, and Kageyama Tobio still managed to rile him up to the point of trying to drown himself in self-loathing and alcohol. He stared morosely at his glass of whiskey, blinking slightly to get the room to stop spinning long enough for him to form some coherent words to express how much he abhorred that reprobate.

The pub he was at, was in the university area and on the weekends, it's normally filled to the brim with college students. Today being the middle of the workday, Wednesday to be precise, the place was half empty with just a few drunk patrons sitting at the bar. Oikawa knew he was being pathetic and acting more like a spoiled brat than a self-respected war veteran and a special operative of the government; but right now, he didn’t give a damn. The thought of continuing to work with Kageyama almost made him want to pull out his gun and off himself; his whiskey addled brain also helpfully supplying him with the next best alternative of some enemy spy tracking him down at the bar and doing the job for him.

Where are all the morons trying to kill him when he needs them? He blinked miserably, taking the glass and draining it all in one go, the alcohol burning its way down his throat. He slammed the glass down and looked up to see someone standing in front of his booth, disappointment radiating from them in waves.

“Iwa chan” he slurred, blearily peaking up at his best friend. “Please kill me.”

Iwaizumi tutted disapprovingly, taking the empty glass away from him. “How much did you drink already?”

“Not enough” Oikawa nodded sagely. “I am still breathing.”

Iwaizumi sighed and slid down on the seat opposite Oikawa in the booth. He carefully removed his jacket and placed it on the table between them. “What did Kageyama do now?” he asked.

Oikawa laughed shrilly. “That little piece of shit saved my life.”

“What an asshole” Iwaizumi deadpanned.

“Right?” Oikawa spluttered, banging his hand down on the table for emphasis. “How dare he?! That cocky bastard is just trying to make me indebted for life! Can you imagine the horror!” Oikawa looked a bit green, his eyes slightly unfocused. “He won’t even let me die in peace.” He muttered, reaching out for his empty glass but Iwaizumi gently pushed his hand away.

“So, the rumors are true?”

“What rumors?” Oikawa could barely concentrate on the conversation, the alcohol making his grip on reality slip little by little.

“Just that your team had set up a fake drugs deal to capture the kingpin behind the Shiratorizawa syndicate.” Iwaizumi said lightly. “Your cover was blown, and you had to take down hundreds of people single handedly to come out alive.”

“Hundreds?” Oikawa gaped, his eyes almost falling out in disbelief. “It was more like twenty.”

“Ah, is that right?”

“Or maybe close to fifteen” Oikawa frowned, trying hard to think back. “What does it matter anyway? I had the situation under control! I didn’t need stupid Tobio chan to jump in to save the day!”

“Trashykawa” Iwaizumi sighed. “He is your partner. Believe me, I know what an epic badass you are and I am even willing to concede that you might have managed to take down 15 people on your own, armed as they were to their teeth with assault rifles.” Oikawa almost choked with indignation, but Iwaizumi barreled on. “But the fact still remains that you are a team. You work together and you put your lives in each other’s hands. Kageyama did what he had to do, to make sure you both got out alive. Its protocol.” 

“Protocol be damned” Oikawa fumed, swaying slightly where he sat.

“You are only saying this because you are drunk.” Iwaizumi stood up. “Come on, let’s get you home.” 

“Iwa chan” Oikawa protested weakly as Iwaizumi bodily dragged Oikawa out of the booth and hauled him to his feet. The room jolted violently for a second and nausea gripped him, bile rising in his throat. “I think I might be sick” he muttered unhappily.

“What a surprise” Iwaizumi grunted, pulling Oikawa’s whole weight against him by the waist and holding him up by his shoulders. “Better warn me before you throw up all over my clothes.”

“It’s all Tobio chan’s fault” Oikawa slurred. “I hate him.”

“Yes yes, we all know that.” Iwaizumi grabbed his jacket from the table with some difficulty, balancing Oikawa against him so that he didn’t topple over to the floor.

“He’s so stupid! And... and so daring and brave! Reckless” Oikawa continued. “Totally unprofessional!”

“Right, he’s the unprofessional one.” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. 

**********************************************************************************

**_ Day 148: _ **

“Are you sure about this?” Oikawa was sitting in front of the glass windows of a coffee shop, a newspaper spread out in front of him. He took a sip of the hot coffee and while pretending to read the headlines, casually looked outside. He was inside the Tokyo Train station and it was the early morning rush hour, the station already full of commuters.

“Positive.” Kageyama’s voice came in through the tiny earpiece on his left ear. “Surveillance reports are accurate, and Tsukishima is confident the dead drop is today.”

Oikawa couldn’t see where Kageyama was, but he knew he was sitting somewhere in one of the public benches, his eyes on the rows of coin lockers. For the past four weeks, they have been following the movements of Kenji Futakuchi, one of the high-profile names in the Bureau’s list of most wanted. It has led them to the Tokyo train station, where a dead letter box was being used to exchange something between Futakuchi and one of Akaashi’s men. They had no idea what the item was but knowing that Akaashi was involved in it was enough to send the agency scrambling to intercept the item before it fell into Akaashi’s hands. 

Oikawa hummed his approval, got out of the coffee shop and started heading towards the coin locker they had seen Futakuchi visit multiple times in the past few weeks. Ideally, he would have preferred the place to be less crowded so that if anything did go wrong, no bystander would get dragged into the mess. However, he knew well enough that no matter how carefully you plan these things out, it always tends to blow up on his face. 

“Walk me through this again, Tobio chan” Oikawa said mildly, stepping around a girl dragging a heavy suitcase behind her, rushing towards the shinkansen. “We know Futakuchi dropped the item off in the locker already. So, we need to get it out before Akaashi’s man shows up.”

“Stop calling me Tobio chan” Kageyama hissed in his ear and Oikawa smirked at the irritated tone. “And yes, we need to get to it before Akaashi.”

“Did Tsukishima kun mention who might show up?”

“We don’t know yet. And we really don’t want to find out, do we?”

“No”, Oikawa agreed, hesitating for a bit. “Based on our reports, whoever they are, they shouldn’t be here till this evening. It gives us plenty of time to bust in and get out.”

As soon as the words came out of his mouth, he stopped dead in his tracks. Right in front of him, a few feet away was the unmistakable outline of a shorter man with black spiky hair and blonde highlights, a fedora hat in his hand. “Nishinoya” he breathed.

He immediately turned back and ran towards the lockers, his heart pounding up his eardrums.

“Tobio chan” Oikawa said urgently, “Nishinoya is heading towards the lockers.”

Kageyama swore loudly in his ear. “I am going to kill Tsukishima” he muttered. “How much time do we have?”

“Hardly a minute” Oikawa gasped, and he immediately saw Kageyama hurrying in from the other side, approaching him in front of the lockers. There was no time to spare and they knew exactly what they had to do, without even speaking it out loud. Kageyama turned towards the locker and Oikawa stood guard, his fingers lightly brushing the grip of the gun he had strapped inside his jacket and he slowly removed the safety. He did not want to use it, not in such a crowded place but if push comes to shove, he would have no choice.

He kept an eye out for Nishinoya and within seconds he could hear the gentle click of a lock opening, but he dared not turn to see what was inside the locker. “Hurry up” Oikawa muttered, “I don’t want to engage with any of Akaashi’s men if possible.”

“You are I both.” Kageyama agreed, as he quickly pocketed whatever was in the locker and giving up any attempts to lock it back, he rushed towards Oikawa and grabbed him by his arm, taking off in the opposite direction. Oikawa just had a second to catch a glimpse of Nishinoya who came around the corner exactly when Oikawa turned towards Kageyama but those few seconds were enough for him to see the surprise register on Nishinoya’s face.

They broke into a run, Kageyama leading the way. There were so many commuters flooding the station, it was difficult to not stumble into them or plain knock them out of the way. Pushing their way through the crowd, they managed to make their way away from the lockers and the train platforms. They nearly made it to the train station exit, when Kageyama stopped so suddenly, Oikawa almost slammed into his back. He could hear him swear under his breath.

“This way” Kageyama shouted, sharply changing direction and turning to the right, Oikawa following without a word. He found himself running up a staircase, taking two at a time and quickly realized they were going up towards the garage. Throwing all caution to the wind, he pulled out his gun and saw Kageyama do the same in front of him. As soon as they came up out of the stairs and stepped into the garage, a bullet almost took Oikawa’s left ear off. He dropped to the ground, rolling to the right as a series of gunshots rang out in the air. He crouched down and scrambled towards the car parked nearest to him and immediately the windshield of the car shattered above him, another bullet taking out the side mirror, showering Oikawa in broken glass. He pressed himself between the front of the car and the wall behind him, crouching his way towards the right while a hail of gunfire erupted around him. He peered out from behind the car just as another bullet lodged into the tire next to him, bursting the rubber into shreds.

Oikawa swore loudly. He had a pretty good idea where the shooters were, based on the direction and trajectory of the bullets and he was certain they were surrounded by at least six of them. Scratch that; from the sounds of it, it seemed like Kageyama got to at least three of them. Taking a deep breath, he stood up and rapidly fired off three shots, one after the other. From the muffled yells and the immediate lull in the gunfire, Oikawa knew he got them. He sighed, leaning back against the car.

“Tobio chan!” he yelled. “Where are you?”

The sound of a heavy car engine starting filled up the garage and even as Oikawa watched, a jeep rolled over and stopped in front of him. Oikawa looked up in disbelief, Kageyama looking as if he just casually stopped by to pick up a hitch hiker. “Took you long enough to get rid of the remaining three. You are getting slow, Oikawa San.”

Oikawa gaped at the blue-eyed bastard.

*******************************************************************************

**_ Day 217: _ **

“Keep smiling Tobio chan” Oikawa encouraged. “Scowling like that is not going to do you any favors.”

From the almost indiscernible huff in his ear, Oikawa could clearly picture the slight frown on Kageyama’s face.

“You cannot even see me” Kageyama’s voice filtered in through his earpiece. “How do you know I am scowling?”

“I don’t have to see you” Oikawa adjusted his position behind the sniper rifle. “I have known you since we were teenagers, remember? As much as I would like to bleach my brain clear of your memories, unfortunately I will have to live with it.”

Kuroo chuckled next to him. Kuroo was Oikawa’s spotter tonight and they were both perched on the roof of the hundred and twenty floor tall building, looking two streets across at the open roof top charity gala that was being hosted by the Johzenji Conglomerate. According to their intelligence report, the Secretary of Defense who was in attendance tonight, was being targeted by foreign operatives. Security was supposed to be airtight with secret service agents flooding the whole building, guarding every nook and cranny of the place. “We will know if anyone even sneezes” they had reassured the Deputy Director, but Ushijima was still not impressed.

“I want you and Kageyama to keep a lookout.” Ushijima had said to them, less than six hours ago in his office. “Take Kuroo Tetsuro with you. This is an off the records assignment, not officially sanctioned and if all things go well, you won’t even have to do anything. But I will breathe easier knowing you two are out there.”

“What are our orders, Sir?” Oikawa had asked.

“Shoot to kill.” Ushijima looked him straight in the eye. “if you have to. And make sure you leave no trace of your presence.”

They had been cooped up on the roof for the past three hours now, the night falling swiftly around them even as Kuroo kept his spotter telescope trained on the Defense Secretary and Kageyama, who were both milling around in the crowd. There was a very slight breeze at the top of the roof, an occasional lull now and then which made the noise from the traffic below a bit more prominent; the honking of a car, the wail of a police siren rafting up to them sporadically. Oikawa could sometimes hear the distant rumbling of the overhead train now and then. He shifted slightly, looking through the rifle scope to spot Kageyama in his dark midnight blue suit, surreptitiously moving closer to the Secretary. That annoying prat actually looked pretty good in that suit; Oikawa brooded morosely.

“Oikawa san” Kageyama’s voice came in suddenly, clear and sharp. Oikawa tensed; something in Kageyama’s voice sent warning bells ringing in his head.

“Do you see them?” Oikawa asked, squinting through his scope to slowly sweep the area surrounding Kageyama. He saw his partner casually picking up a glass of wine from one of the waiters, taking a sip and walking past slowly, nodding his head now and then to someone or the other in the crowd. Even from so far away, Oikawa could almost feel the total air of indifference radiating from that moron.

“Yes,” Kuroo spoke up, his eyes peeled on the rooftop across. “Three men, converging on towards the Secretary. Three more following up from behind.” Oikawa could identify them immediately and he slowly licked his lips as he trained his rifle towards one of the men, getting his natural point of aim set up. He took in a deep breath, feeling the calm settle down on him and he looked through the scope, lining it up with the target. How the heck did they get past those Secret Service imbeciles? Oh boy! Wakatoshi was so not going to be happy about this. For a few happy seconds, Oikawa allowed himself to bask in the sadistic glow of imagining the Deputy Director marching into the headquarters and ripping them all a new one. Especially the one who had said “We will know if anyone even sneezes.” Whoever that poor bastard was, yeah, buddy your time was up.

“Stay calm now” Kuroo’s voice floated in over him, a slight tone of disapproval seeping in at the chuckle Oikawa couldn’t prevent from escaping his lips. He smirked to himself and watched Kageyama casually walk towards the Secretary, his wine glass free left hand inconspicuously reaching towards the gun that Oikawa knew he had strapped on to the holster, hidden under his jacket. “Stay calm” Kuroo repeated.

“Wait for my signal Tobio chan”, he whispered. “We don’t want any of them to escape now, do we?”

“What signal?” Kageyama asked, his voice irritatingly impassive. 

The next few seconds happened as if in slow motion. Oikawa caught sight of one of the men pulling out a gun and pointing it discreetly towards the Secretary. “Now.” Kuroo said softly to him. Oikawa squeezed the trigger in between the space of his heartbeats and watched the bullet race through the distance and tear through the head of the man. The man toppled over, disappearing from view immediately.

There seemed to be a shocked pause and Oikawa discerned, rather than heard someone scream.

“That was the signal Tobio chan” Oikawa spoke into his earpiece, already adjusting his rifle to take sight of the next man. Chaos seemed to have broken out at the gala and in the ensuing pandemonium, people were screaming and trying to get to the exit, tripping over each other in their haste. “Take them out.”

Kageyama walked forward, whisked his gun out with his left hand in one smooth motion and fired five shots without breaking his stride. There were no wasted movements, no hesitation; each shot sharp, precise and spot on. The men dropped like dead weights, the bullets entering exactly in between their eyes and exiting from the back of their skulls in a splatter of gore. Kageyama walked on, bringing the wine glass up to his mouth, tipping his head back and draining it completely in one swallow, just seconds before the security detail came rushing in and finally swarmed in around the Secretary. He paused for a moment and carefully set the empty glass down on one of the tables before strapping the gun back in his holster and calmly continued to walk away. Within seconds, he was completely swallowed in by the panicking crowd and Oikawa couldn’t see him anymore.

There was a stunned silence on the rooftop.

“Is he left-handed?” Kuroo asked, lowering his scope.

“No” Oikawa swallowed; his mouth suddenly dry.

Kuroo let out a low whistle. “He didn’t really need us then, did he?”

Oikawa shook his head, a reluctant smile on his face. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

********************************************************************************************

**_ Day 241: _ **

**__ **

Oikawa was meticulous, very thorough and detailed when it came to writing down his mission reports. He had always prided himself in his ability to break down all his cases into the base details and highlight the important parts for the Deputy Director to review before handing them over to the records department. Completing and submitting his own reports was something that he had been doing for quite a while, so it had come as a minor annoyance to him now that he had Kageyama to help him out. He read through the file in his hand, the one that Kageyama had put on his desk when he had walked into the office that morning and he couldn’t help but grudgingly admit that he couldn’t find anything wrong with it. It was written exactly the way Oikawa would himself write, right down to the last detail.

It had been a while since Oikawa has had to work with a partner. The last guy assigned to him was such a mess that he had begun to wonder if everyone around him had developed selective blindness and just simply refused to acknowledge how useless that moron was. The last straw was when Oikawa had to put his ass on the line to save that sorry excuse of an agent from getting himself kidnapped and worse, ending up dead. Months and months of painstaking surveillance work and careful planning to infiltrate the Shiratorizawa syndicate had all gone up in smoke, thanks to that inept bastard. Oikawa had been so enraged at his partner’s incompetence that he had gone on a furious rampage, breaking into the syndicate base single handedly, taking down more than twenty people and blowing the place up just for good measures. It had led to a spectacular shouting match with a seething Ushijima Wakatoshi later, in the sterilized hospital corridor outside the surgery room, where his stupid partner was being operated upon; the one that he had just saved by compromising their entire mission.

“You cannot do this Tooru!” Ushijima had fumed, one of the very few times that Oikawa had seen him really lose his temper.

“Don’t tell me to leave my men behind!” Oikawa had yelled back, barely able to smother his rage. “No one is going to die on me! Not on my watch!” 

It was a miracle Oikawa was not fired on the spot but three days later when he walked into his office, his partner’s desk from across his was cleared out and empty. He had stopped short, backtracked out of the room and checked the name plate outside the door to make sure he didn’t just walk into someone else’s office. The nameplate that once read “Oikawa T. / Towada Y.” was now reduced to just his name. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Well, it can’t be helped now could it? There was no way he could have continued to work with Towada after what had happened. Oikawa liked to think of himself as a reasonable man; all he wanted for a partner was someone who was at least competent. Was that too much to ask?

Oikawa slammed the file shut now, glaring at Kageyama, who was sitting at his own desk, looking down at what appeared to be pictures from the evidence locker. That guy was so competent, it was driving Oikawa up the wall. He was, in fact, too good. So good that Oikawa was almost struggling in holding on to his hatred for that jerk. But that was something others didn’t have to know about. He would resolutely swear to himself and anyone else who would dare to imply anything otherwise, that he still very much hated that blue-eyed bastard. Anything else anyone might have inferred was pure poppycock.

“Can I help you with anything Oikawa san?” Kageyama asked, raising his eyes to meet his across the room.

“Can you stop being so infuriatingly good at everything you do?” Oikawa spoke up, before he could even realize what he was saying. “Frankly, its creepy and it’s almost making me hate you less.”

“Thank you” Kageyama replied, going back to looking at the pictures again.

“That wasn’t a compliment Tobio chan” he sighed.

“It wasn’t? You just said I am good at everything I do and that you hate me less. That’s as good a compliment or a confession as I can ever expect to get out of you.”

Oikawa spluttered. That cheeky bastard!

*****************************************************************************************************

**_ Day 311: _ **

  
“A little help here?” Oikawa yelled, dodging the crowbar that almost took his head off. He ducked to the left, sidestepping around and bringing his elbow sharply to the face of the assailant, a satisfying crunch and a howl of pain from the man indicating he was successful in breaking the guy’s nose. The crowbar clanged uselessly to the floor as the man went down on his knees, whimpering.

“You got this.” Kageyama called out.

Oikawa looked at him, incredulous. That little fucker was leaning against the wall, a champagne flute in his hand and Oikawa’s eyes widened as he casually took a sip. “I would pay more attention to the men trying to kill you” he gestured with his free hand.

“Tobio chan”, Oikawa grunted, as he threw another man over his shoulder, using the guy’s momentum to lift him off his feet and crash his face into the wall behind them. “You do know we are partners?” A second guy had rushed behind the first, his arm raised but Oikawa’s kick connected with his wrist and there was a sharp crack, the sickening sound of bone splintering and a follow up round kick to the side of his head sent the guy face first onto the table and he crumpled in a heap, taking the table down with him.

Oikawa glanced another look at his partner, furious at the small smile tugging at the corner of Kageyama’s lips. The air of complete nonchalance Kageyama was radiating ticked him off, and he snarled in anger, picking up one of the chairs littered around the now damaged and deserted ballroom and bringing it down heavily on the head of the guy who had rushed forward, trying to tackle Oikawa to the ground. Oikawa spun in the air, hooking his right ankle at the back of the man’s exposed neck and slammed his face down hard onto the floor as he brought his foot down. The man gave a weak twitch and stayed down. 

Oikawa was panting a little by now, a tiny trickle of sweat making its way down his forehead. He scrabbled at his tie, pulling the knot down to loosen its grip around his neck as he eyed the remaining three men who were still standing, circling around him warily. He sighed in resignation; he had already taken down seven of them, might as well get rid of the remaining three. The sooner this was over, the sooner he would be able to punch that smirk off Kageyama’s face.

“I reckon it might be easier to fight with your dinner jacket off” Kageyama supplied helpfully.

“Tobio chan” Oikawa gritted his teeth, getting into a fighting stance. “Either shut up or help me out.”

He didn’t get to hear Kageyama’s response. The remaining three idiots had finally decided to make use of the one brain cell they had between them and they rushed Oikawa together at the same time. Despite his annoyance at Kageyama, Oikawa found himself grinning. Now that was more like it.

The first roundhouse kick unhinged the jaw of the man in the front, sending him smashing sideways to one of the tables; glass, silverware, flower vase sliding off the table and falling on top of the man, his limbs getting tangled up on the fine silver tablecloth. The second guy managed to get a clean punch to Oikawa’s temple and stars exploded behind his eyes. Oikawa stumbled backwards, wheezing. He managed to block the next kick aimed at his chest, gripped the man’s ankle and calf with both his hands and pulled him forward sharply. The man yelped in surprise as his torso was dragged forward. Oikawa let go, leaving the man flailing, trying to regain his balance. His punch caught the guy at the center of his face, and he could feel teeth crumble and the soft cartilage of his nose squish beneath his knuckles at the impact of his fist to the guy’s face.

A sharp pain to the back of his legs brought Oikawa down to the floor. The third guy had managed to pick up the discarded crowbar and landed a hit on Oikawa’s leg from behind when he was busy trying to not get kicked on his face. He looked up in time to see the guy take another swing at his head which he managed to avoid at the last second by rolling out of the way. He scrambled to the side and hurriedly got up on his feet, wincing slightly. The man followed, bringing the crowbar down in a frenzy; Oikawa had to stumble backwards and dodge first to the right, then to the left, and then to the right again, the crowbar coming down with such speed, it almost scorched the air. He ducked from under the man’s arm at the next swing and swiftly turning on his feet, he jabbed the man sharply to the side of his neck, then grabbed him strongly by the back of his shirt and sent him flying across the room. There was a wet crunch as the man hit the wall, his head bouncing off in a weird angle and he slid down to the floor and laid there, unmoving. 

For a few seconds, it was deathly quiet in the smashed-up ballroom, the only sounds being Oikawa’s heavy breathing as he surveyed the damage. Slowly the sounds started filtering in; some of the men were groaning in pain, a few others outright sobbing while the rest of them remained unmoving where they had crumpled onto the floor.

“Did you watch and learn Tobio chan?” Oikawa wiped the sweat off his eyes, his heartbeat slowly settling down and looked over at that infuriatingly maddening partner of his, who was still leaning against the wall without a care in the world.

“Showoff” Kageyama muttered under his breath, a fond smile on his face.

Oikawa preened and then immediately faltered; the brief unexpected look of affection on that jerk’s face catching him totally off guard and suddenly, inexplicably, his chest felt tight.

* * *


	2. What is going on?

* * *

**_ Day 357 _ **

**__ **

“Sorry can you say that again?” Oikawa asked, trying and failing to mask the disbelief on his face. “I think I might have misheard you.”

Tsukishima Kei gave him an unsympathetic look, his glasses glinting under the harsh lights of the debriefing room they were both currently sitting at. “ **M.A.L.A.R.K.E.Y** ” Tsukishima repeated dully. “ **M** issions to **A** ggrandize **L** iaisons **A** nd **R** elationships for **K** nowledge **E** xchange and **Y** ield.”

“Yield?” Oikawa ogled. “It doesn’t even make sense! Why not Yokozuna instead? Or Yahoo? Since they are hell bent on acting like a bunch of Yahoos anyway.”

Tsukishima didn’t look impressed. “I would agree with you Oikawa san but it’s not my place to question orders.”

Oikawa sighed. It was only 9 am in the morning and he was not drunk enough for this. “So, what is this **M.A.L.A.R.K.E.Y** exactly?”

“We are going to find out together”, he smirked, looking extremely smug. Oikawa tried to give him the stink eye, but the glasses bastard just sneered back at him: this guy reminded him so forcefully of Kageyama sometimes, he couldn’t help but feel a very strong compulsion to throttle him. He figured the Deputy Director might not be too impressed with his train of thoughts, so he focused instead on slowly counting backwards from ten.

“Where are the others?” he asked, once he had reached zero and safely determined to have gotten under control any lingering homicidal tendencies he might have nurtured towards snarky tall guys in glasses. “They have all been already notified.” Snarky tall guy in glasses said between sips of the hot cup of coffee he was cradling in his hands. “The three of us are the only ones left to be debriefed, since both you and Kageyama just got back last night.”

“Oh? And what about you then?”

“You know I can’t tell you that.”

“No?” Oikawa leaned back on his chair, eyeing him suspiciously. “I would have expected you to jump at the opportunity to make some wisenheimer comments.”

The corner of his mouth twitching in a reluctant smile, Tsukishima slowly shook his head. “To you? I don’t think I will be able to get away with it.”

“Oh?” Oikawa raised an eyebrow.

“You keep the King on a lease.” He pointed out, as if it was the most obvious explanation in the world. “I would be stupid to even try it out on you.”

Oikawa honestly didn’t know how to process that statement, so he grabbed on to the only part of that sentence that made any sense to him and asked instead “Why do you call him King?”

Now it was Tsukishima’s turn to raise an eyebrow and Oikawa suddenly felt as if he was caught with his hand inside the cookie jar. He tried not to squirm in his seat, his mouth going dry. “Why do you want to know?” tall snarky guy in glasses finally asked.

Oikawa tried to give an insouciant shrug. Why did he want to know? No reason really. Just curious? Afterall, he knew Tsukishima and Kageyama had been friends since childhood; even attending and graduating from the same high school. He had seen Kageyama hang around Tsukishima’s office more times than he could count and had one day even accidently walked in on them both in the break room, catching them mid laughter. He remembered feeling a little strange, watching Kageyama looking so free- so unrestrained, laughing at something that Tsukishima had said, his eyes sparkling with mirth and his face no longer an impassive mask- 

His dazzling introspection were abruptly interrupted when suddenly, the door to the room swung open and a tall blonde man walked inside. Oikawa just had a second to catch a glimpse of the man, but his body reacted faster than his brain could and before he even realized what he was doing, Oikawa was already on his feet, his gun gripped tightly in both hands and pointed straight at the blonde’s face. The next second he found himself staring down the barrel of a Glock 19, the other man having pulled out his gun at the exact same instant. Oikawa eyed the man warily, his grip tightening on the trigger. For a few tense seconds, no one spoke.

“Miya Atsumu” Oikawa finally said, breaking the silence.

Miya Atsumu stood deathly still in front of him, both his arms raise with a gun clenched in each hand, one of them aimed at his face and the other one pointed at Tsukishima. From the corner of his eye, he could see Tsukishima was on his feet as well and he realized, mildly impressed, that Tsukishima must have pulled out his gun and snapped it towards Miya at the same moment as he himself did.

“Oikawa Tooru”, Miya Atsumu’s lip curled in disgust, his voice carrying an unmistakable trace of contempt. “I surely hope this whole **M.A.L.A.R.K.E.Y** shit was not just some ploy concocted by the Bureau to lure me into a trap and try to take me out.”

“Don’t flatter yourself” Tsukishima scoffed, a vein throbbing in his forehead. Oikawa could almost feel the venom emanate from Tsukishima, the animosity radiating from him palpable. Oh, he was definitely not drunk enough for this. He exhaled slowly.

“Ah Tsukishima Kei”, Miya drawled. “Did you miss me? I was hoping that the bullet I put through you shoulder last time was a clear indication of how much I didn’t want to see your face again.”

“At least that is one thing we both agree on.” Tsukishima snarled. “Surely you remember the bullet I put through your leg?”

“Oh yeah” his voice was cheerful but the grim look in his eyes was fooling no one. “That was pretty impressive.”

“Why thank you” Tsukishima sneered.

Oikawa’s brain was racing, his thoughts running wild, trying to figure out any logical reason as to why the golden boy of Interpol was standing at the Bureau’s debriefing room. Miya was smirking at them, seemingly without a care in the world, as if it was just a normal everyday occurrence for him to walk into a room and stare down two guns pointed at his face. The tension in the air was making Oikawa uneasy, the fact not lost on him as to how weird it was to be caught in a strange standoff with Miya Atsumu in the middle of the room but before he could say anything more, a sharp voice cracked through them like a bolt of lightning.

“Agents!” Ushijima snapped. “Stand down. Now!”

Ushijima Wakatoshi had walked into the room behind Miya and he stood near the door, glaring at both Tsukishima and Oikawa. For a few mad seconds, Oikawa was almost tempted to disobey direct orders but then he saw Tsukishima slightly relax his hold on the gun and after a pause, all three men reluctantly lowered their arms to their sides.

“That wasn’t so difficult now, was it?” the Deputy Director looked at all three of them sternly, as if daring them to say anything otherwise. No one moved, the tension thick as ever. Ushijima strode inside, pointedly ignoring the death glares his agents were giving Miya and taking his jacket off, calmly sat down in the chair at the head of the table.

“What is he doing here?” Oikawa asked instead, jerking his head towards the blonde.

Ushijima pinched the bridge of his nose before letting out a huff of air from his nose. “He’s here to help. From Interpol.”

“As part of this **M.A.L.A.R.K.E.Y** nonsense?” Oikawa’s eyes didn’t leave Miya’s, his fingers itching to get the gun back up at his face.

“Agent Oikawa”, Ushijima said patiently. “Would I be asking too much out of you if I ask you to sit down? And Agent Tsukishima, I would appreciate it if you can dial the hostility down a notch and let our guest take a seat as well?”

Oikawa looked at the Deputy Director, incredulous. Guest? Since when has Miya been relegated to be a guest? He shook his head and with one last glowering look at that accursed face, finally sat down. Miya’s smile looked forced as he gave Ushijima a small nod and pulling the nearest chair out, plopped down on it with a sigh. Something fishy was going on, Oikawa scowled. He wouldn’t trust this guy as far as he could throw him, not after all the run in the Bureau has had with him over the years. What’s with tall blonde guys anyway? They all seem to have an innate propensity for annoying the heck out of him, with or without glasses.

He was so busy glaring at Miya that he almost didn’t notice Kageyama walking into the room and pulling out the chair next to him, looking totally nonplussed.

“And how are you doing today, Tobio Kun?” Miya asked mildly, a small genuine smile on his face.

“Miya san” Kageyama nodded politely as he slid into the chair but Oikawa didn’t really get to hear how Kageyama was doing today because he was too busy trying not to get too aggravated over the fact that first: Miya fucking Atsumu just addressed his partner as Tobio Kun. And second: they sounded almost friendly! When the hell did this jerk get close enough to Kageyama to call him by his first name? And what the hell was going on with this cordial atmosphere? A small irrational stab of jealousy ripped through him, coiling uncomfortably at the pit of his stomach. He glanced over at Tsukishima, who was wearing such a severe grimace on his face that he disturbingly reminded Oikawa of a pug in glasses.

Oikawa realized he was breathing a little too fast, that unsettling feeling putting him on edge. He tried to relax, slowly counting backward from twenty this time. He vaguely realized that Ushijima had started saying something again and he forced himself to listen, trying his best not to keep scowling over at Miya or shoot furtive glances at Kageyama but that fleeting twinge of envy in his guts was all he could concentrate on for the rest of the meeting, confused as to what it was and _why_ it was.

* * *

**__ **

**_ Day 393 _ **

“The roads are being cleared off” Ushijima’s voice came in sharply through the earpiece tucked in Oikawa’s left ear. “The police commissioner has assured me that everyone within a 5-mile radius are being evacuated.”

“Your best chance is when they reach the suspension bridge.” Tsukishima’s voice crackled through a slight static. “Give it another 10 minutes at max.”

“I can’t believe we are getting permission from the city to blow up public property.” Oikawa announced, for the third time in the past two minutes, his binoculars trailed at the armored van currently speeding through the city with at least five police cars giving chase. He was presently perched on the side of a helicopter, flying at least 2000 feet above the ground. The whole city lay out below him and he could still see the plume of smoke in the distance where the explosion had gone off less than ten minutes ago.

“If it goes according to plan, we won’t have to blow up too many things.” Kageyama spoke next to him, tightening the straps around his Kevlar vest and fitting in an assortment of weapons on his person.

“That hardly happens now, does it?” Oikawa mused, putting the binoculars down and turning to face his partner. “But let’s pretend they will. So, are we ready?”

“As ready as we can ever be.” Kageyama got up from the seat next to Oikawa, balancing himself as the helicopter swooped in closer to the chase unfolding in the streets below them. In the past year and the half since they had started working together, Oikawa had become very well attuned to his partner’s thoughts, to the way his mind worked. By then, like it or not, he could decipher the slight nuances in his facial expressions and pick up the tiny hints through his body language.

Like right now. Although he seemed totally unaffected by what was going on, his face looking almost bored, there was a slight hum around his whole persona, as if he was buzzing with excitement; an excitement which was carefully shrouded in a veil of nonchalance. This guy was a total adrenaline junkie, who sneered at mortality and got absolutely higher than a bunch of monkeys on hallucinogenic by putting his life on the line at any given opportunity. In fact, he was as crazy as Oikawa himself, if not crazier. 

“Right” Oikawa grinned, checking to make sure he had everything on him. “Well, I will see you on the ground then.”

He got out of the helicopter, holding on to the side, the wind whipping mercilessly across his face. His eyes started to water a bit, but he could clearly see the cars racing towards the bridge, which was less than half a mile away.

“Any second now”, Tsukishima cautioned.

“Can we get a bit lower?” he shouted out to the pilot and immediately the chopper dropped down, swinging in closer to the police cars. He adjusted his grip on the handle and looking over at Kageyama, gave a slight nod.

Kageyama strapped on his protective earmuffs, pulled out an AT-4 rocket launcher and unsnapping the shoulder mount, hauled it up his shoulder. The helicopter turned to the right, to avoid hitting the tall buildings surrounding the roads below but it hardly seemed to frazzle him. He was almost hanging halfway out the other side of the helicopter, straps and belts holding him in place and Oikawa carefully moved out of the backblast area. The bridge was coming up, the roads opening in front of them and within seconds, the armored van and five of the surrounding cars covering it, zoomed onto the bridge, tires screeching and sparks flying as it burned through the road.

“The cop cars are pulling back.” Tsukishima confirmed.

“We don’t negotiate with terrorists” Ushijima’s voice was firm. “Take them all out.”

“Ready when you are”, Oikawa shouted, flipping down the visor of the ballistic helmet on his head with one flick of his wrist.

Kageyama pulled the trigger. With an ear-splitting roar, the flaming projectile blasted past them, hurtling towards the cars below and striking the middle of the bridge. There was a moment when the entire atmosphere around them seemed to simmer, shockwaves radiating out in concentric circles and all at once, the bridge right ahead of the speeding cars collapsed with a resounding crack. The strong steel cables holding the suspension bridge shrieked and groaned, swaying in midair, concrete and asphalt crumbling, debris falling into the water below.

Through the haze, Oikawa could see the van swing dangerously, slipping and sliding as it careened violently to the right, barely skidding to a stop before the yawning gap that now divided the bridge in two. The helicopter was low enough for him now and without another word, Oikawa let go and dropped the rest of the 20 feet or so straight down, landing with a thunk on top of the armored van.

The smoke from the explosion had barely settled, but Oikawa was already crouching on the roof of the armored van, pulling out the submachine gun strapped on to his hip and was halfway through emptying the bullets in the cars racing towards him, before they had even come to a screeching halt. The volley of bullets drilled holes into the metal, hitting the gas tanks on two of them and the air around him suddenly heated up, as both the cars exploded in a brilliant orange fireball.

There was an answering hail of bullets from the remaining three cars behind the charred remains of the first two, and he let go of the gun and laid flat on his back, his heart hammering with excitement. He saw the helicopter above him sway to the left to avoid getting hit by the gunfire, but it turned back quickly in a circle and then the thunderous roar of machine gun fire smothered him, almost drowning out the sound of the helicopter. 

The bullets splattered everywhere, hitting the remaining cars, shredding through the metal, fragments ricocheting off wildly. Through the continuing blast of gunfire from the helicopter, Oikawa could almost picture the look on Kageyama’s face, as he calmly stood in the helicopter and blasted away the machine gun at the cars around him, providing him the much-needed cover fire. Oikawa grinned fiercely, rolled over onto his stomach and pulling out a small explosive device, placed it on top of the roof. The van had skidded to a stop horizontally across the bridge, and it provided a barrier between himself and the rest of the cars. He slid down to the side and removing a gun from one of the holsters strapped onto his left leg, he walked over to the driver’s side of the window.

Two pairs of wide shocked eyes stared back at him from behind black balaclavas. “Yoohoo!” Oikawa greeted them cheerfully, calmly putting the barrel of his gun flush against the bullet proof window and squeezing off the trigger. The gun shuddered in his hand, the first few bullets having no impact on the window but by the time he had emptied half the clip on the glass, a small dent had begun to appear, a thin spiderweb crack, quickly spreading across. He smiled in satisfaction when the two hooded guys inside the van frantically pulled out their guns, moments before the bullet proof glass finally gave way under the concentrated barrage of bullets and splintered into a thousand pieces.

The first shot through the broken glass took the driver right in the middle of his forehead and Oikawa could see his head snap back, blood splattering on to the windshield even as the body slumped backwards onto the other guy’s shoulder and lap. There was a moment of pure terror in the eyes of the second guy as he struggled to pull his gun up from under the dead weight of his companion’s body. Oikawa didn’t even hesitate and the next bullet from his gun tore through the throat of the terrorist and the third blasted his face apart, a shower of gore exploding inside the van.

It must have taken him about less than five minutes to get rid of the occupants of the van, but by that time, all the gun fire around him had ceased, the silence almost surreal after the earsplitting roar of the machine gun. He could still hear the faint but steady beat of the helicopter hovering far above him, and dropping his empty gun, he turned around to find Kageyama walking towards him, a shotgun in his hands. The cars around them were all on fire, riddled with countless bullet holes and the air was filled with the strong acrid smell of explosives, gas, burning rubber and scorched metal.

“Sorry to keep you waiting”, Kageyama said, his voice a bit muffled from behind the ballistic helmet but loud and clear in his earpiece.

“Cheeky bastard” Oikawa muttered to himself, a slow reluctant smile forming at the corners of his mouth. He walked over to the back door of the van, Kageyama keeping pace next to him. They stopped right behind the van and Oikawa pulled out the gun strapped onto his waist. “Alright” he said, getting into position and nodding at Kageyama. “Let’s do this.”

The shotgun blast to the door shook the van off the ground, sending it a few inches up in the air. The second and third blast followed in quick succession. Any second now, Oikawa knew, and he instinctively gripped his gun tighter. The fifth shot finally blasted the door open and it flung outward violently, swinging off the hinges. As expected, the back side of the van was empty, but Oikawa still held on to the gun as they moved forward. Kageyama strapped the shotgun onto his back and climbed into the van.

“You have two minutes” Tsukishima’s voice sounded strained in his earpiece.

“We are done.” Oikawa replied, watching Kageyama crawl out of the van with a silver metal briefcase in his hands. “Object retrieved.”

Two minutes later they were both back in the helicopter, the briefcase secured between them. As the chopper started gaining height, Oikawa turned and aiming carefully at the explosive he had left on top of the van, squeezed the trigger of his gun. A thunderous roar, followed by a fireball lit up the bridge below them, swallowing the van into the explosion and that was the last thing he saw before Ushijima’s voice in his earpiece diverted his attention. 

* * *

****

**_ Day 421 _ **

There were a lot of things in his life that Oikawa was grateful for and there were times when he had woken up in the mornings wondering how he got so lucky. Kageyama, however, was not one of those things. Granted they had kind of fallen into a rapport by now, a bit hostile maybe (mainly from his side, he had to admit) but overall, it wasn’t really the death sentence he had expected when Wakatoshi had decided to pull the biggest prank on his life by teaming them up together.

No, he was talking about Iwa chan. His best friend since childhood, someone who knew him inside out with all his scars and all his flaws; and who still stood by him no matter how despicable Oikawa could sometimes become. And oh, he was well aware of the fact about how stubborn and difficult he could get. Although, right now, he was having a little trouble reminding himself why he ought to be grateful, especially when said best friend was staring at him with _that_ look on his face.

“Iwa chan” Oikawa whined. “What do you want from me?”

Iwaizumi’s right eyebrow shot up, almost disappearing in his hairline and Oikawa thought for a moment it might be in danger of flying straight up in the air.

“You know very well what I want, Shittykawa” Iwaizumi scowled. “And don’t even try to fool me. I know all the tricks in your book, and I would be damned if I fall for any of them.”

Oikawa had a very good idea of what Iwaizumi wanted to talk about and he hesitated, trying to stall for time. He reached out for the pint glass in front of him and drained it in one gulp. “Can you get me another glass? I think I might need some alcohol to loosen my tongue.”

Iwaizumi glared at him pointedly and Oikawa did his best to school his face into as innocent a look as he could manage. But knowing Iwaizumi, he knew it was a futile attempt but hey, at least no one could blame him for not trying. Iwaizumi sighed, muttering something under his breath and got up from the booth they were both sitting at. Oikawa leaned back on his seat, rubbing his tired eyes. They were back at the pub, on a Saturday night and it was much more crowded than the last time he remembered. He tried to get his thoughts in order, knowing it was only a matter of time before Iwazumi would drag the truth out of him. Might as well give it to him on his own terms.

Iwaizumi returned and put a fresh pint glass in front of him. He waited for Oikawa to pick it up and take a long swallow before settling down on the seat opposite him and crossing his arms across his chest.

“Talk.”

Oikawa took a few seconds to savor the bitterness of the alcohol flooding his taste buds, wondering how much of his speculations he really wanted to share. But then this was Iwa chan. _Fuck it._ Oikawa decided eloquently and opened his mouth before he could change his mind.

“I think there is something going on.” he began slowly, his fingers drumming up an unsteady rhythm on the glass in his hand. “Being assigned a new partner I mean.”

“Are we still complaining about it?” Iwaizumi asked, an amused expression on his face. “I mean it has been more than a year now, hasn’t it?”

Oikawa gave him a dirty look. “Feels like forever”, he muttered, taking a swig of his beer.

Iwaizumi shook his head, letting out a long-suffering sigh.

“You were the one who wanted me to talk!” Oikawa accused, forgetting the glass in his hand as he pointed at him, outraged, the drink sloshing dangerously. “I was perfectly happy being miserable on my own! You wanted to ruin my melancholia!”

Iwaizumi leaned forward, reaching out for the platter of onion rings in the middle of the table, an indulgent smile on his face. “Yes, I did.” he agreed and the mutinous look on Oikawa’s face slowly dissolved into a more placated scowl instead.

“So, tell me then”, Iwaizumi prompted, picking up his own drink and taking a sip “why do you think something is going on?” Oikawa pouted, still stung and Iwaizumi had to hide his smile behind his drink, looking at him over the top of his glass.

“It was very last minute!” Oikawa finally burst out. “That’s not how they do things like that!” The deputy director had sprung that nasty surprise on him out of nowhere, without even showing Oikawa the courtesy of letting him know beforehand. Even after all these months, he still took offense at that rudeness; don’t people have manners anymore?

Iwaizumi frowned. “So, what are you trying to say?”

“I am not really sure”, Oikawa admitted, a bit hesitant. “But I have a few theories.”

Iwaizumi waited patiently as Oikawa sorted the thoughts in his mind, swirling the words around his mouth, trying to figure out how they would sound like once he spoke them out in the open. “Do you know who Tobio chan’s previous partner was?” His stomach gave a strange flutter as Kageyama’s name escaped his lips and he frowned slightly; must be the onion rings, he decided. He eyed the plateful of the fried offenders suspiciously, reminding himself to take an antacid once he got back home.

Iwaizumi shrugged. “No one does. All their missions were Top Secret- “

“Exactly” Oikawa interrupted triumphantly. “So why was such a high-level Operative reassigned to work with me?” He waved his empty hand around, a small tinge of frustration lacing his voice. “We both know he and his partner were the best team we have had in the agency in decades. We have all heard the stories.”

“Belfast” Iwaizumi nodded. “Istanbul, Moscow. But they are mostly rumors, aren’t they?

“Yes” Oikawa agreed, feeling a bit morose, absently tracing the rim of his glass with his index finger. The loud music in the bar was starting to give him a headache. “But you and I both know that these types of rumors are mostly based on facts, distorted as they may be.”

Iwaizumi looked thoughtful and Oikawa took that moment to take another sip from his glass. “And I have seen him work. He is good, Iwa chan” he continued. “Really good. In fact, I think he is holding back most of the time.” Even as the words left his mouth, he realized with mild horror on how comfortable he was getting in Kageyama’s ability to surprise him every single time. He was just so damn good at what he does that it honestly left Oikawa a little breathless. Alarmed at the sudden unwelcomed epiphany, Oikawa hastily took a big gulp from his glass, his head buzzing.

“That’s high praise, coming from you.” Iwaizumi looked at him slyly, his eyes twinkling in the dim lighting of the pub. “Careful there, you almost sounded like you admire—" Oikawa spluttered violently, accidently inhaling his drink up his nose. He wheezed, overcome by a terrific coughing fit, spilling half of the beer down the front of his shirt in the process.

“Look what you just made me do” Oikawa gasped, reaching out for the paper napkins piled up at the corner of the table, his face heating up. He resolutely overlooked the suppressed smile on his best friend’s face, avoiding his eyes as he tried to wipe away the large beer stain slowly spreading across his shirt. “This was one of the only good shirts I had” he whimpered halfheartedly.

“You don’t expect me to believe that, do you Trashykawa?”

“Don’t roll your eyes at me Iwa chan!”

“I am not.”

“You are!”

…

“Fine.” Iwaizumi gave in, curiosity getting the better of him. “So, what has this got to do with his old partner?”

“Something must have happened to him.” Oikawa sulked; his attention still fixed on trying to mop up as much of the spilled alcohol as he could from his shirt. “It just doesn’t add up otherwise.”

“You don’t mean- “

“No. If anyone had died, I would have found out by now.” Oikawa carefully placed the soggy napkin to the side of the table and picking up another one, looked at Iwaizumi. “Did you know Wakatoshi keeps sending him away in between missions?”

Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes, a hint of surprise on his face. “Did you try asking Kageyama about it?”

“Iwa chan” Oikawa looked at him dolefully. “What do you think?”

“Knowing you, that must have been the first thing you did.” Iwaizumi muttered and Oikawa beamed at him. “And what did he say?”

“Nothing” Oikawa grimaced. “He just looked at me and walked away. That shitty bastard has one hell of a poker face! It’s so damn difficult for me to figure out what the heck he is even thinking.”

“Well, you wear your heart on your sleeves” Iwaizumi smirked, watching as Oikawa piled up the damp beer-soaked paper towels and pushed the whole stack to the side. “Not everyone is like you.”

“Don’t say such creepy things” Oikawa snorted. “You are making me sound like a child, with no control over his emotions.”

“I wasn’t the one who nearly tried to drown themselves in a bottle of whiskey, not too long ago.” Iwaizumi pointed out helpfully.

“Ouch! Cheap shot Iwa chan!”

It warmed Oikawa’s heart to see Iwaizumi chuckle when he stuck his tongue out at him. Even after all these years, Iwaizumi still managed to somehow bring out the petulant child in him. They settled back into a comfortable silence, Oikawa giving Iwaizumi the time to think about what he had just said. He reached out and picked up his half empty glass, knowing fully well how dangerous this train of thought was. He kept a careful eye on his best friend’s face, reading him as easily as if he could read his mind.

“I don’t think I like where this is going”, he finally said, looking at Oikawa with a worried glance. “And I don’t think I will like what I think you are going to do next.”

Oikawa shook his head, “No, I don’t think you will.”

“And seriously,” Iwaizumi leaned forward conspiratorially, his voice dropping down to a whisper. “It’s ok to no longer hate Kageyama.”

Oikawa’s eyes went wide, and he choked on thin air, the pint glass slipping from his limp fingers, dumping the rest of the beer onto his chest and lap.

* * *

**_ Day 467 _ **

Ok, something was not right. Oikawa could feel it in his bones, that nagging foreboding at the pit of his stomach- yup, something was definitely not right. For the first few initial weeks, he had tried to blame it on the shitty coffee the break rooms had but then Ushijima got so sick and tired of hearing him complain all the time that he went ahead and got all the coffee machines replaced. Oikawa had stepped into the break room in a particularly vicious mood that day, intending full well to take it out on the coffee when suddenly he stopped short, his mouth slowly hanging open: brand-new Starbucks machines twinkled under the cheerful lights, mocking him.

“Oikawa san, you should complain more often”, Tsukishima had smirked, blowing away at the steam rising from his perfectly brewed cup of Starbucks dark roast.

Oikawa tried to smile weakly but at the slight look of horror on Tsukishima’s face, he decided it was best not to attempt any sort of facial expression, lest he burst into tears of frustration. His one last ray of hope had been squashed and now he was left to seriously consider the alternative that it was not the coffee after all, that he might have actually lost his bloody mind. How else could he explain this sudden lack of hostility towards Kageyama? The all-consuming rage, the proclivity for violence whenever he saw that annoying face, the intense loathing - they seemed to have all fizzled out. Instead of the gut-wrenching hate, there was now almost a sense of mild acceptance- 

Oikawa had walked out of the break room, feeling slightly hysterical and shut himself up in his thankfully empty office. In hindsight, he should have locked the door as well; for hardly had he taken a seat when he was very rudely interrupted from having a nervous breakdown by the door slamming open with a bang. He yelped in shock, almost dropping the coffee and painfully knocked his shin against one of the brass knobs of a filing cabinet. He folded over the desk, hissing in agony. Kageyama had come charging in like a rampaging rhino and even though technically – alright fine, not technically- but even though the office also belonged to said ungrateful thoughtless insensitive errant rhino bastard, Oikawa was undoubtedly asking for the moon when he expected to be shown any sort of common courtesy.

“Please, barge right in” Oikawa whimpered, his head on his desk, smothering his face in his arms and screwing his eyes shut, fighting back the tears of pain “It’s not like the door being shut means anything.”

“Sorry” Kageyama mumbled, carefully closing the door behind him and stepping inside. “I was looking for you.”

Oikawa glared at him blearily, the throbbing in his shin temporarily driving any rational thoughts out of his mind. “Well you found me.” he gasped. “Now if you can give me an hour to recover from the fright you just gave me, I would really appreciate it.”

That jerk just ignored Oikawa’s misery and walked straight to his desk. “I want you to take a look at this.” Oikawa sat up straight, the smarting in his shin fading as he registered the serious tone of his partner’s voice. Come to think of it, he has rarely seen Kageyama so flustered and that more than anything made him look down at the file Kageyama had just put in front of his face. “What did you do?” He hated how alarmed his voice sounded.

“Nothing” Kageyama shook his head, an amused look on his face and pointed towards the file instead. Despite his misgivings, Oikawa picked the file up and flipped it open. He quickly scanned through the first page, ignoring the silent stare that Kageyama was giving him, concentrating instead on the words and sentences that jumped out of the page at him. It took a while for him to realize what he was looking at but once he did, he couldn’t help the small sharp intake of breath.

“Yes” Oikawa could almost hear the smile in Kageyama’s voice. “That’s exactly what I thought too.”

Oikawa looked up at him, his face slowly breaking into a smile. “This is brilliant.” He whispered, running a shaky hand through his hair. “Absolutely brilliant.” He shook his head in disbelief, letting out a breathy laugh.

“All we need is to get Director Shimizu’s signature on it.” Kageyama walked over to his desk, looking a little too pleased with himself. “I am assuming that won’t be a problem?”

“How did you manage to pull this off?” Oikawa asked, unable to stop the grin threatening to split his face in two.

“Contrary to what you might believe, I am not exactly useless.” Kageyama smiled.

Ok, something was definitely not right, Oikawa admitted reluctantly, his eyes drawn towards Kageyama’s smile. A strange warm feeling- a feeling that almost seemed suspiciously like a mixture of pride and affection- slowly spread through him. He shook his head again, tearing his eyes away from his partner’s face and resolutely decided to push this feeling away, locked up somewhere where he won’t have to think about it ever again.

After all, he was quite an expert in ignoring and locking up feelings that didn’t make any sense to him, so this wouldn’t be a problem at all. And once he squashed out this weird sense of camaraderie, Oikawa determined, he can safely go back to hating that jerk in peace once again. Yup, no problem at all.

* * *

**_ Day 502: _ **

It was starting to get stiflingly hot inside the car, despite the best efforts of the ancient air conditioner which was rattling and cranking along, sporadically spewing a mist of warm water on Oikawa’s face. The best way to describe the car would be to call it a jalopy but that would be an insult to real jalopies- this one was beyond any hope, held together not by nuts and bolts, but solely by optimism. The AC belched a blast of warm air on Oikawa’s face and he could feel his temper raising along with the temperature.

Oikawa glared at the map in his hand, the sweat dripping down his forehead and getting into his eyes. The map was turning yellow with age and it had so many intricate details of streets and back alleys and more streets that he was going cross eyed just by looking at it. He tried to blink the sweat away, temporarily rendering his sight blurry for a few seconds. His eyes stung and he found himself swearing loudly as the AC unhelpfully sprayed another mist of warm water on his face. He was almost tempted to think that Wakatoshi had deliberately assigned his team on this project just so he could relish from the knowledge that Oikawa was suffering. It had sounded to be a relatively straightforward task at first; the Bureau had picked up the trail of one of Akaashi’s men who had been holed up in Cairo for quite a while. Word on the street was that Akaashi was planning something big and his man out here was the key to the whole mess. The task for them was simple: get in, grab the guy and get out.

Oikawa, however, hadn’t accounted for the swelteringly humid summer he found himself in, right in the middle of August. The sun had set hours ago and any delusions he had harbored about the heat becoming more tolerable had rapidly evaporated along with his patience.

The door to the passenger side opened and Oikawa looked up to see Kageyama sliding into the seat next to him looking as cool as a cucumber, not a hair out of place. His heart gave a sudden lurch as blue eyes turned to face him and for a second, his breath stuttered, and he wondered vaguely if he was having a heat stroke. “You are drowning in sweat Oikawa san” Kageyama commented lightly, pulling the seat belt over his shoulders and settling himself in, his knees almost hitting the glove compartment in front.

Oikawa gave him a big fake smile. “That’s what human beings do Tobio chan.” He drawled. “They sweat, when they are cooped up in a baking car, with temperatures reaching almost hundred degrees.” He crumpled the map in his hand and throwing it over to the back seat, reached out for the keys and started the engine. “Especially when their partners decide that it is a good idea to take an hour for reconnaissance, all the while knowing the delicate constitution of their teammate, who- might I remind them in case they forgot- absolutely cannot tolerate the heat.” 

“You are not delicate.” Kageyama said, as Oikawa pulled out on to the street and violently honked at the crowd of pedestrians blocking the car, trying not to run them over. A couple of those ingrates turned around and gave him some rude hand gestures for his efforts. He scowled at them disapprovingly. “But it does look like you can use some time to cool off” Kageyama added considerately.

Three hours later, Oikawa had to admit Kageyama was right. One can never understate the importance of a functioning air-conditioned hotel room, a nice cold refreshing shower and half a dozen frozen drinks to help soothe the frayed ends of his temper and relegate the heat to just being some minor annoyance. The major annoyance, however, was sitting right across him, frowning down at the blueprints that were spread out on the table before them.

“Here”, Kageyama pointed to a spot on the outline of the building. “The fire escape is right here, and this room at the end of the corridor is guarded by two men.”

“Only two?” Oikawa raised his eyebrow.

“From the looks of it but I am willing to bet that there are more: here and here.” Oikawa looked down to see Kageyama point at two rooms on either side of the hallway, flanking the one at the end. “So, what do you say?” 

“Stick to the plan” Oikawa nodded. “Let’s get it done and get out of this place. Remember Tobio chan, stealth is the key. We don’t want to create a big ruckus and alert the big bad guys.”

“Oikawa san” Kageyama sighed, rolling up the blueprints. “Can you please stop calling me Tobio chan already?”

“Oh? What do you want me to call you instead?”

“Kageyama. Just like everyone else does.”

“But I am not like everyone else now, am I?” Oikawa winked.

Kageyama looked at him. Really looked at him; intense blue eyes seeming to bore into his very soul and suddenly Oikawa felt very very vulnerable. He panicked, his heart all at once thundering up in his eardrums.

“I suppose not.” Kageyama agreed softly. His gaze lingered on Oikawa’s face for a few more seconds before he stuffed the blueprints inside his back pocket, gave him a small nod and started towards the door. “Let’s get this over with.”

Oikawa stood rooted to the spot, his heart threatening to jump out of his mouth. Yeah, it’s the stupid heat. The stupid heat was melting his stupid brain and turning him stupid. He took in a deep breath and quietly followed Kageyama out of the room.

* * *


	3. What the heck am I doing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to fit the whole story in 3 chapters, I really did- but somehow, it looks like it is going to take at least another chapter to wrap this up. I have also added some new tags, just in case :)

* * *

* * *

_**Day 512** _

“Oikawa?’

“Yes”

“Did you have lunch yet?”

“Yes”

“You did? When?”

“Yes”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Yes.”

A pause. “You owe me a thousand bucks.”

Oikawa whipped his head up. “No, I don’t.”

“Oh? You were listening?” Miya Atsumu smirked, looking at him from across the conference table. “I was saying let’s go get lunch before Ushijima san drowns us in more paperwork.”

“Ah.. I don’t think… I mean I don’t know…,” Oikawa articulated fluently, trying to come up with an excuse. Why the heck did Miya want to eat lunch with him? The hell if he knew. “I do have got a lot of paperwork to catch up on.”

“Are you sure?” Miya asked. “It’s not like an hour lunch break is going to make that much of a difference.”

Oikawa considered that thought and reluctantly agreed with that assessment. “That is true” he sighed, tapping the pen on the file he was reading, scrutinizing the hopeful face observing him. Well, he did skip breakfast and he was getting hungry… 

“Alright.” He got up from the chair. “Let’s go. And you are buying.”

Miya smiled widely and hastened to catch up with him as they both strode out of the conference room. It did not take them long to reach one of the little brunch places located within walking distance from their office. Miya held the door open and eyeing him suspiciously, Oikawa stepped inside.

“Get us a table?” Miya asked brightly, looking at the queue in front of the counter.

“Are you ordering for both of us?”

“Well, you want me to pay. So, yes, I get to decide what I pay for.”

Smug bastard. Oikawa curled his stiff upper lip and walked off, making his way over to one of the few empty tables that he could see by the window. He was already regretting his impulsive decision to come out for lunch with that sadist, but he didn’t get much time to beat himself up because a few minutes later, Miya found him and quietly slid onto the seat opposite him, placing a stand with a ticket number onto the side of the table.

“Ok, spit it out.” Oikawa leaned forward, resting his arms on the edge of the table. “What do you want?”

“Oh? What makes you think I want anything?”

Oikawa raised an eyebrow.

“Fine.” Miya smiled and Oikawa abruptly realized that he had just walked into a trap. “I guess I should get straight to the point.”

“That would be prudent, yes.” 

Miya leaned forward casually, mimicking Oikawa’s pose across him and lowering his voice a bit, asked. “Did you talk to Tobio kun this past week?”

Oikawa had to admit, he was not expecting that question. Kageyama was out on whatever mission Ushijima had sent him on this time and he hadn’t seen him in weeks. Wondering on how he should answer that, he decided on the truth.

"No, not really.” Curious. “Why?”

Miya regarded him for an uncomfortable moment. “Did he tell you about me?” he asked, his voice a little too casual.

Oikawa’s stomach did a strange flip flop and he tried to bite down on the insides of his cheeks to stop himself from saying anything he might regret. “Should he?” the words came out a little sharper than he had intended them to be, but Miya did not seem to notice.

"He should, I think.” Miya said and turned to stare out the window. Just then, the server brought over their order to their table, and placed it in front of them. Oikawa gave her a small smile and looked down at the food, suddenly not hungry. Miya didn’t say anything, and after a moment Oikawa sighed. "Well, as strange a concept as it might seem, not everyone is interested in talking about you." He picked up his fork and poked at his baked potato savagely. 

“Oh?” Miya said mildly. “I thought you guys were close.”

Oikawa could feel a vein throb on his forehead in anger. "Where's this coming from?” he gripped his fork tightly. “What are you trying to say?”

Miya only smiled at him. “Nothing really. I was just wondering, you know… with all the things that happened to him and all that he had been through—” Miya stopped, his eyes widening as realization slowly dawned on him. “You don’t know,” he whispered, the smile sliding off his face. “You guys really don’t know.”

Oikawa dropped the fork onto his plate and leaned back against the chair. He had no idea what was going on, or what Miya was trying to say, but he had a bad feeling about this. "You are making absolutely no sense. Even more so than usual"

Miya frowned. "You are his partner, Oikawa. I would have assumed that required a certain level of familiarity, you know, knowing each other and stuff. Since you literally put your life in his hands every single time you are out there in the field with him.”

Oikawa’s stomach seemed to have dropped down to somewhere near his toes. “I know him well enough” he growled, starting to get irritated at the blond bastard.

Miya blinked at him, leveling him with a challenging glare. “Do you now?”

“Yes” Oikawa hissed, glaring back. "And it's none of your business really."

"I highly doubt it," Miya shrugged, conveniently ignoring Oikawa's last sentence. "Otherwise Tobio kun would have told you about me by now.”

_And why would that be?_ – Oikawa wanted to ask but something about Miya’s expression made Oikawa hesitate a bit. This wasn’t easy, eating lunch with Miya Atsumu but Iwa chan was right. He needed to stop being so stubborn and let go of the past; and after all, they were both on the same side now. Miya seemed willing to put in a sincere effort with this whole ‘trying to get along’ with Oikawa master plan, and while he did seem flippant and flamboyant about everything else, Miya’s concerns about Kageyama’s wellbeing seemed genuine. Perhaps he should take this seriously. He took a deep breath.

"Alright… he didn’t tell me,” he said finally. “And honestly, I didn’t ask. I figured if he wanted to talk about anything, he would do so on his own. Without me having to interrogate him about it." He looked down at his plate, speared a cherry tomato with his fork and chewed on it thoughtfully. He let his gaze dart back to Miya who was looking at him intensely, his own plate of food forgotten in front of him. "And I kept my distance. It wasn’t like I was super excited to have him as my partner."

“Because he was better than you?”

Oikawa snorted. "If you are trying to provoke me, you will have to do better than that.”

“You have been working together for quite some time now.” Miya continued, ignoring his comment, and finally picking up his fork and twisting the spaghetti on his plate around it. “Do you still feel the same way?”

With some effort, Oikawa managed not to choke on his food. 

“And apparently, you form quite a formidable team, if the rumors are to be believed.” Miya pointed his fork at him, a shrimp dangling at the end of it. "That’s why I wondered if you were aware of what’s going on with Tobio kun."

He didn’t know what to say. They were not close, not in any sense of the word. He huffed a soft laughter. “No, I wouldn’t say that. We are not close, and I don’t really know anything about him.”

"I would have almost believed you, but you do know who you are talking to, right?” Miya waggled his eyebrows at him, and Oikawa resisted the temptation to reach out and stab him with the fork. “There is no way you- you, Oikawa, would have just sat back and done nothing. Do not tell me you didn’t try to find out why Tobio kun was assigned to you.” 

“What are you not telling me?” Oikawa asked, wondering where this conversation was headed.

Miya leaned back in his chair, “That’s for me to know and for you to find out.”

He frowned. “Is this related to why you suddenly showed up at our doorstep that-”

“M.A.L.A.R.K.E.Y” Miya interrupted helpfully.

Oikawa’s right eye twitched. “M.A.L.A.R.K.E.Y” he grimaced, looking down at his now half empty plate. The thing was: Miya had him pegged. Oikawa had driven himself crazy, trying to find out why— why was Kageyama suddenly reassigned? Where was his old partner? Why all the secrecy? What was going on? The less he found, the more he was convinced it was something bigger than what he had first assumed. The few pieces of information that he had managed to put together painted a picture he was not ready to acknowledge yet. Iwaizumi knew about it, or at least he suspected Oikawa was up to something; he would not be able to condone such reckless behavior and that’s why Oikawa never really brought up the topic with him again, not since that night in the bar. 

“Look, all I’m saying is that you’re not the type of person who would just let things go. I wondered if that stubborn curiosity existed beyond your work, and- you know, applied to more personal matters.” Miya shrugged. “But apparently I had completely misjudged your relationship with Tobio kun.”

“That’s not true.” Oikawa began slowly. 

Miya looked dubious and that somehow irritated Oikawa enough to continue. “You cannot expect to survive in this field if you do not trust your partner to watch your back. I don’t have to tell you that, do I?” Mercifully, Miya didn’t say anything, so he barged on, feeling reckless. “Kageyama is extremely intelligent- sometimes I wonder how that brain of his even works. He takes calculated risks, is more capable than anyone I have ever had the misfortune to work with— and honestly, at this point, I doubt there is anything he cannot do—” he trailed off, wondering why he was still speaking but now that he had started, he couldn’t stop. “We work well together, and yes, those rumors you are referring to? They are true- we do make a ‘formidable’ team and guess what? You cannot do that if you don’t know your partner so no, you did not misjudge my relationship with him at all.” 

Miya was staring at him and when he finally spoke, his voice was faintly surprised. “Yeah, ok. I didn’t mean to imply—"

Oikawa couldn’t resist rolling his eyes. 

“Alright, fine” Miya sighed. “I just wanted to see if you were aware of what’s going on—"

Oikawa looked him in the eye and smiled slowly. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.” 

* * *

_**Day 531** _

“Let me handle this Tobio chan” Oikawa winked, pleased to see the slightly irritated look on Kageyama’s face. “You just stand back and look menacing.”

“I don’t know how to look menacing.” Kageyama replied, frowning in confusion.

“You are doing a pretty good job” Oikawa reassured him, “Just keep doing what you are doing, and we are good.” Before Kageyama could say anything more, Oikawa stood up from the corner table they were both sitting at and slid into the crowd. It was a Friday night, and the club was jam packed with people, trying to wash away the week with alcohol and bad decisions. Oikawa maneuvered his way smoothly through the tight press of bodies on the dance floor and headed over to the bar, his eyes never leaving the man currently sitting up in one of the seating areas overlooking the jostling mass of drunks below.

He waved the bartender over and shouted out his order over the loud music and waited casually, drumming his fingers on the counter to the beat of the song currently blaring through the speakers. He was banking on the large crowd, the ear-splitting music and the flashing strobe lights to provide him with enough cover to observe their target from up close. He glanced up furtively at their suspect, who seemed to be having a whale of a time, surrounded by at least half a dozen people, the table in front of them piled high with drinks and empty bottles.

It has been close to two weeks now since they first got assigned to the case by a very smug looking Ushijima. “It’s all for the greater good” he had stated, handing over the case details to Oikawa. “As part of "M.A.L.A.R.K.E.Y” he had added. Oikawa shook his head now, picking up the drink the bartender had put in front of him and considered his options again. He could always take the head-on approach and forcibly drag the guy down and make him talk. Or he can hand the guy over to Kageyama and hope he does not break him before Oikawa could get any valuable intel out of the poor guy. He grimaced, the bitter alcohol stinging his mouth when he took a small sip.

Right, stick to the first option then.

He watched, waiting patiently and sure enough, after about fifteen minutes, their suspect got up from his seat and headed to the side door. Oikawa knew that it led to the alley behind the nightclub and he gave the guy about ten seconds head start before slowly getting up from the bar stool and quietly following him outside. He knew Kageyama would have seen him move and would follow close behind, hopefully keeping his distance and letting Oikawa take care of this. 

The strong smell of cigarettes hit him as soon as he stepped outside, the deafening sound of music fading into the background with the door clicking shut behind him. The flickering lights outside cast a warm yellow glow and Oikawa could see the man a few feet ahead of him, standing amidst a thick cloud of cigarette smoke. He stepped forward, his footsteps echoing loudly in the empty alley.

“Izumi Yukitaka?”

Izumi turned around; eyeing Oikawa approach him. “Depends on who is asking.” He replied cautiously, taking a deep drag of the cigarette, and blowing the smoke out in a small puff.

Oikawa chuckled lightly; these guys never make it easy now, do they? But then, where would be the fun in that? “Oh, I wouldn’t play this game if I were you.” He advised, wagging his finger at him. “You will get hurt.”

Izumi snorted, the note of levity in his amusement not escaping Oikawa’s notice. He flicked the cigarette aside and pulled himself up to his full height. “Listen here you shit” he began, and Oikawa restrained himself with difficulty from not rolling his eyes. “I don’t know what you want but if I were you, I would buzz off right now. Before… you know—” he paused, slowly pulling out a revolver from under his jacket “ -things get difficult.”

Oikawa shook his head wearily, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Are you really that drunk that you would pull a gun at me?” His voice was flippant but there was no mistaking the silent threat that the words carried.

Izumi faltered for a few seconds, his eyes narrowing in confusion before realization seemed to strike him all at once, and just like that, the revolver slipped from suddenly sweaty hands, clattering on to the ground.

“You… “he whispered, fear and shock clearly exposed in his bulging eyes. “You are the Great King.”

“Oh?” Oikawa looked thoughtful. “Do they still call me that?” He walked over and carefully picked the discarded gun, emptied out the cylinder and looked at it curiously. “Where do you guys get these things?” he shook his head disapprovingly. If it were up to him, he would have effectively banned the production of such substandard weapons. Really, don’t these criminals have any pride anymore? And to think this guy pointed such an abomination at him, he bristled. 

Izumi scrambled backward, almost tripping on his feet, whimpering in panic. “Stay away from me!” he screamed, pressing himself against the wall, instinctively trying to put as much distance as he could between them. “I am not telling you anything!”

“No”, he agreed, slowly turning his head to the side, watching the fearful eyes follow the movement. “But you are going to tell him.” Oikawa could see the exact moment Izumi caught sight of Kageyama standing quietly behind him, the way his eyes widened just a little bit more giving him away.

Kageyama, as usual, was leaning back against the wall, his arms crossed, his long legs stretched out in front of him, a small frown on his face. Oikawa turned and strolled back towards his damn partner, absent mindedly flicking the empty revolver open and closing it again, the snapping sound of the cylinder quite loud in the alley. He stopped at his side and lightly tapping him on the shoulder, indicated the cowering man in the corner with a jerk of his head. “All yours” he muttered.

Kageyama uncrossed his arms, pushed himself off the wall and made his way over to the frightened man. Oikawa almost felt sorry for the guy and honestly speaking, he wasn’t really planning to feed him to Kageyama but he just couldn’t forgive the idiot for trying to think he could take him out with such a relic of a gun. There was a strangled gasp behind him. Serves him right, Oikawa thought savagely, relishing in his sadistic impulse. He stepped out of the alley, pulling his phone out, still flicking the revolver open and shut with the other hand.

“You left him to Kageyama?” even through the phone, Ushijima’s voice sounded incredulous. “That was a bit harsh. What did he do to deserve that?”

“He pointed a gun at me” he pouted. There was a short silence on the phone, and he could clearly picture Ushijima trying to rub his forehead in exasperation.

“Tooru…” Ushijima began. “You know what, never mind. Just make sure you hand him over to the cops after you are done. And I want a detailed report by tomorrow afternoon.”

Oikawa put his phone back inside his pocket and took another look at the gun in his hand. He frowned, running his fingers along the barrel of the revolver- now this was getting interesting. Bemused, he started walking back towards Kageyama and reached him just in time to hear Izumi say – “And that’s the warehouse and I swear I don’t know anything else.” Kageyama was staring down at him and the poor guy was cowering in fear, his shaking hands clenched at his side, but he looked very eager to co-operate and tell Kageyama anything he wanted to know.

“You sure you are telling me everything?” Kageyama asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper but Oikawa could see Izumi flinch in alarm. His eyes darted fearfully, looking from Kageyama’s face to Oikawa. “I cheated at Poker last week” he babbled, wrenching his hands together. “And I lied to my mother about going to Sunday church.”

Oikawa snorted. Kageyama peeked at Oikawa, a strange expression on his face, as if he were trying really hard to maintain his stern look but failing to suppress the beginnings of a grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth. Oikawa’s heart suddenly filled with warmth, and for a moment, all he wanted was to really really see Kageyama smile. That warm feeling held on even as the cops came around to take their suspect away, it still lingered when it was just the two of them left in the alley behind the nightclub and it would have eventually faded away if Kageyama had not turned back to him, a hint of a smile on his face, stating in a very matter of fact voice “I guess I was able to look menacing enough.”

Oikawa could not help that bubble of warmth from spreading out in the form of laughter and he instinctively reached out to ruffle Kageyama’s hair and laughed even more at the totally bewildered look on Kageyama’s face.

* * *

_**Day 578** _

“Good evening. This is your captain speaking.” There was a small ding and the seat belt sign flipped on, glowing green above their heads. “We are flying through a storm system right now and for the next few minutes, we are going to experience some mild turbulence. Please return to your seats and fasten your seat belts. Thank you.”

Oikawa groaned, his body stiff. He glanced at Kageyama to his left, who was fast asleep, a frown etched on his face even in slumber. To Oikawa’s annoyance, that idiot had dozed off somewhere over the Pacific Ocean an hour or so into their flight, which meant that Oikawa was left all alone to seethe silently about how unfair it was that Kageyama could fall asleep so easily when he, Oikawa, had to struggle with getting even a few hours of decent sleep at night. Muffling a yawn, he tried to sit up straight, stretching his long legs uncomfortably, and immediately his shoe bumped against Kageyama’s feet. These stupid cramped airline cabins should be used as a torture chamber, he thought gloomily, fidgeting back in his seat.

The lights in the cabin were turned off and he shivered slightly, a cold blast of air from the vent above his head tousling his hair. Cursing silently at the insanely low temperature these airline cabins seemed to maintain, he turned the knob to shut the vent. Yeah, perfect torture chambers. Miserably, Oikawa reached out for his blanket and he saw it peek out from underneath the seat in front of him. With a resigned sigh, he bent down, groping for the material near his feet. His back gave an ominous creek and he grimaced but finally managed to clutch on to it by the tip of his fingers. Just as he was straightening up, the plane lurched unexpectedly to the left and Oikawa bumped hard into Kageyama’s shoulder.

Kageyama stirred in his sleep and Oikawa stilled. Hazy, unfocused dark blue eyes slowly opened.

“Tooru…?” Kageyama slurred.

Oikawa forgot how to breath.

“I am here.” he managed to wheeze out. “Go back to sleep.”

Kageyama nodded obediently, clearly half asleep.

Oikawa paused, watching, willing his lungs to start working again. Kageyama mumbled something in his sleep, let out a loud snore, drooled some more and turning slightly to the side, continued to sleep, his head resting against the window.

Drawing in a painful breath, Oikawa tried to pull himself together. The dull ache in his chest that he had been trying to ignore for months now, that he had been trying to reason away whenever he couldn’t ignore it anymore— that ache suddenly threatened to overwhelm him.

What the hell was he doing? Had he finally gone insane? He shook his head, his eyes helplessly drawn towards Kageyama. Maybe his sleepless nights were finally catching up on him, messing up his brain. He frowned; no one had to know about his sleepless nights he decided. No one had to know that lately, Oikawa hadn’t been able to sleep well. No one had to know that whenever he did manage to drift off for a couple of hours here and there, he would be assaulted with nightmares; nightmares consisting of heart pounding smiles and fervent blue eyes and traitorous hands reaching out –

But no one had to know that, he reasoned.

The plane shook with another bout of turbulence and Kageyama’s head bounced slightly, knocking back against the window, but the drooling idiot slept on. Oikawa’s gaze fell to Kageyama’s right hand, draped loosely on the armrest between their two seats and suddenly, he really really wanted to tangle their fingers together, to feel the secure warmth of Kageyama’s hand in his—

He tore his eyes away from the sleeping form of his partner, his heart thundering madly in his chest. He resolutely kept his hands clenched in his lap, turned slightly on his seat to face away from Kageyama and pulling the blanket over himself, firmly closed his eyes. _Tobio_ —

No one had to know, he reassured himself.

No one had to know.

* * *

_**Day 604** _

Oikawa squinted over his coffee cup, mildly fascinated by the scene unfolding before him. He slowly took a sip of the coffee, shuffling the papers in front of him absent mindedly and sneaked another glance. The object of his attention was scowling fiercely at Tsukishima, shaking his head stubbornly and putting his nose up in the air- a remarkable feat really, considering the fact that the 6’4” Tsukishima was towering over the harassed looking brunette currently sitting resolutely at his desk.

“Don’t be so stupid King” Tsukishima’s exasperated voice could barely conceal the desire to strangle the pigheaded blue-eyed jerk.

“Doe” an adamant shake of the head.

“Do you even hear yourself speak?”

“Deeb bee adode”

Oikawa hid his smile behind the coffee cup. It has been three days since this started and Kageyama looked absolutely miserable. His nose was red, his eyes puffy and if the number of tissue papers piling up in his wastepaper basket was anything to go by, his stuffy nose was definitely doing quite a number on him. Tsukishima had given him a worried glance the first day that Kageyama had sneezed violently in the break room but didn’t say anything much the rest of the day, despite the frequency of sneezing going up slowly as the day progressed. Oikawa had seen him offhandedly poke Kageyama in his ribs, telling him to take some cold medication once he gets home.

It was evident Kageyama had not listened to his advice, for the next day he came in looking as if a truck had run him over. Tsukishima gaped at him, aghast. “Would it kill you to listen to me once in a while?” he had ranted, as soon as Kageyama had walked into the office, woebegone and sniffing wretchedly.

“I am not sick” Kageyama had insisted. “I don’t need to take any medicine.” He might have managed to pull it off, if not for the impressive coughing fit that followed, leaving him hacking and breathless. Tsukishima didn’t look convinced. He had piled him up with hot tea and soup from the nearby restaurant for the rest of the day, muttering about idiotic morons.

Today was the third day and if the vein throbbing in Tsukishima’s forehead was anything to go by, he was just inches away from imploding. “Just take some bloody medicine.” Tsukishima almost sounded desperate and Oikawa couldn’t help feeling a little sympathetic towards him. The withering glare that Kageyama directed towards him would have been quite intimidating for anyone else but Tsukishima just scoffed at him. “It has been three days now! Why are you so damn infuriating?!”

Oikawa snorted. Now that was an understatement if he has ever heard one.

“I dam dod” Kageyama shook his head. “Infudiadid” he added helpfully.

Oikawa could see the exact moment Tsukishima finally gave up, flung his hands up in the air in frustration and turned away from the annoying pest, his face looking murderous. He stormed over to Oikawa’s desk and slammed down the bottle of cold medicine he was trying to force feed Kageyama just a few moments ago. Oikawa slowly looked up at him, a slow unpleasant flutter taking root in his stomach.

“You better take care of this” Tsukishima demanded, the expression on his face leaving no room for negotiation before he strode out of the office, slamming the door shut for no good reason. Oikawa gulped, carefully putting the coffee cup down and picking up the small bottle. He glanced up towards his partner and one look at the puffy mutinous blue eyes glaring back at him was enough for him to make up his mind. He opened the top drawer of his desk and shoved the bottle of medicine inside; Kageyama was a grown man, he can take care of his own health. There was no reason for him to fuss over him like Tsukishima, he reasoned. 

  
A very unproductive and frustrating two hours later, Oikawa was forced to reconsider his decision. He could barely focus on his paperwork and was close to pulling his hair out, thanks to Kageyama—who was muttering to himself, coughing and sneezing at an alarming rate and rapidly running through boxes of tissue paper. After a particularly violent sneezing episode, Oikawa had had enough. He pulled the drawer open and grasping the medicine bottle in his hand, crossed the distance between their two desks and marched over to stand in front of Kageyama. 

Woeful eyes peered up at him, and for a moment, a strong rush of affection engulfed Oikawa. He had been watching of course, for the past two days, and though he was worried, he had to maintain the stubborn insistence that he just did not care and so he had purposefully kept a safe distance, letting Tsukishima handle it. But now –

  
“Just wearing a mask is not going to help you recover.” Oikawa pulled out the chair across Kageyama’s desk and sat down on it, toying with the medicine bottle in his hand. Now that he was close, he could clearly see the fever in Kageyama’s flushed eyes and whatever part of his face that was visible above the cloth mask.

“I ab fide” Kageyama insisted.

The bottle was a reassuring weight in Oikawa’s hand, his eyes vaguely focused on Kageyama’s fidgeting fingers resting on top of the file he was trying to read. Watching Tsukishima bang his head against the wall three days in a row clearly indicated that the head on approach was not the right way to go when it came to convincing this stubborn idiot.

  
“I’m dot sick,” he insisted again, shaking his head vehemently.  
  
  


“Oh, really?” Oikawa hummed. “What do you call this then?” He gestured towards him, pointing out the tissue papers and the cloth mask wrapped around his face.  
  
  


“Jusd an inconbenience”

“Inconvenience huh?” Oikawa sighed wearily. “Right,” he muttered, putting the bottle on the desk in front of him. “I’ve had enough now. Take it.”  
  


“Doe.”

  
“Just drink it.”  
  


“Doe.”

“Stop acting like a child.”

  
_“I amb dod!”_

Oikawa tried hard to suppress a sigh. “Tobio chan.”

  
“Why?”

  
  
“Because Tsukishima kun will murder us both otherwise?”

  
  
Kageyama raised an eyebrow but Oikawa’s brilliant reasoning had clearly not impressed him. So, he tried again.

  
“Because you look like you might roll over and die any moment, even without Tsukishima’s help?”

  
Kageyama continued to look at him with forlorn eyes, a kicked puppy expression on his face. Oikawa was almost tempted to pet his head. “Come on now Tobio chan” he wheedled, “For Tsukishima’s sake?” The stubborn idiot was starting to give him a headache now. He mildly noted that the cold had done nothing to whittle down the intensity of the trademark Kageyama death stares; a red rimmed, blue eyed death stare that he currently found himself at the receiving end of.  
  


At times like this, honestly always works, a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Iwaizumi reminded him. Oikawa took a deep breath, _right_ \- “Because we need to get our work done and you coughing your lungs out is not helping?”

Kageyama wavered, his eyes darting behind him to look at the mountain of paperwork piled up on Oikawa’s desk. “I am soddy” he wheezed, turning his face away as another sneeze racked his body. “I bill go find anoder doom” 

“That’s not what I meant” Oikawa quickly amended, irked at his own choice of words, his temper slowly rising. “Drink the goddamn medicine!”

“Doe.”

“Drink it!”

_“_ Why do yod care? _”_

“For fuck’s sake—” Oikawa squawked, banging his hand down on the desk with venomous force. “I do fucking care ok?! Dagnammit! You! You! – you insufferable shitgibbon! You—You demented lunatic! You are driving me start raving mad! Take the fucking medicine or I swear to God I am going to shove it so far up your nose your offspring will be born with it! Bloody hell!”

For a long moment, there was absolute silence. Oikawa was breathing hard, gasping, face tinged red with anger.

“Yod care?” Kageyama asked finally.

“What?” Oikawa fumbled, the realization of what he had just admitted finally hit him like a ton of bricks.

Kageyama didn’t say anything but slowly extended his hand across the desk, gesturing for him to give him the medicine bottle. Astonished, Oikawa placed the small bottle in his hand and watched as Kageyama unscrewed it. Peering into it suspiciously, he gave a resigned sigh and measuring out the correct recommended dose, he tilted his head back and swiftly swallowed it. Oikawa gaped, unable to avert his eyes away from the long column of Kageyama’s exposed throat, an insane desire to pull his head back and kiss every inch of that pale neck—

He stumbled, the surging inexplicable want making Oikawa’s head spin. He hastily got on his feet, his heart racing so fast, his chest hurt. He stared at Kageyama, his eyes wide; the grimace on Kageyama’s face at the bitter taste of the medicine hardly registering.

“Euurghhh” Kageyama muttered eloquently, reaching out for the glass of hot water that Tsukishima had placed on his desk.

“Right.” Oikawa faltered, “umm… good. That is good. Err, I will… right.”

“Well, well, well” That leering voice froze Oikawa’s blood in his veins. Mortified, he turned to find the smug looking blond bastard in glasses smirking at him, an ear-splitting grin lighting up his stupid face. Tsukishima was leaning against the door frame, looking as if Christmas had come early. “Oikawa san, I didn’t know you cared so—”

“Say another word and I will gut you like a fish” Oikawa hissed, stomping out of the office.

He held his head high, clutching on to whatever shreds of dignity he had left remaining but even as he marched out, he knew with absolute clarity that the supremely delighted sneer on Tsukishima’s face would haunt him for the rest of his life. 

* * *

_**Day 617** _

Oikawa opened his eyes blearily, a bit disoriented for a moment as he tried to figure out what had woken him up. His head gave a throb, helpfully reminding him that he had just managed to fall asleep, still in his office clothes and shoes, less than an hour ago. A little buzzing noise under his pillow seared through his sleep addled brain, and he slowly became aware of the incessant vibration of the cell phone, going off under his head. He grumbled, pushing his hand under the pillow in the darkness, groping for his phone and for a few seconds almost considered throwing the offensive piece of technology across the room and going back to sleep.

Better sense prevailed however, and he pulled it out to squint at the caller id, his eyes still trying to adjust to the sudden glare of the cell phone in his hand. “Pain in the ass” glowed happily in the darkness. Kageyama? They just parted ways an hour ago, what the heck did he want from him now at 3:30 in the morning?

He sighed, taking a deep breath and swiped the phone to answer the call.

“Tobio chan” he croaked, “This better be important.”

Silence.

“Tobio chan?”

There was no sound from the other side.

Immediately Oikawa was wide awake. He sat up on the bed, looking down at the phone screen to verify he got the caller id correct. Yup, it still showed Pain in the ass. He pulled the phone up to his ear again and tried to listen quietly, holding his breath. He knew Kageyama would not pull a prank on him, this had to mean something. Suddenly, a gunshot shattered the silence on the other side of the phone and instantly Oikawa was on his feet, running to get his car keys and pulling up his agency phone and punching in a number even as he made a mad dash out of the room.

He was halfway down the staircase of his apartment building when Tsukishima picked up his call.

“Oikawa san?”

“Tsukishima! Trace Kageyama’s phone right now.” He jumped into the car, banging the door shut. “And send me the locations.”

“On it.”

Oikawa flew out of the garage, throwing the phone on the passenger seat and pushed the accelerator all the way down to the floor. His heart was thumping wildly, and the car swerved dangerously around the corner, almost going up the sidewalk before Oikawa regained control and pelted down the road. Kageyama was headed home when they had parted ways and Oikawa would be damned if he didn’t start from there first.

“Oikawa san” Tsukishima’s voice sounded through the phone speaker. “Kageyama’s phone is at his residence. I am sending the medics and I called for backup. Kuroo san is on his way and will meet you there. Please don’t do anything reckless.”

Oikawa could hardly hear anything over the roaring of the blood in his head. What kind of mess had that bastard gotten himself into this time? He was going to kill him, he swore loudly. Oikawa screeched to a halt as he took the turn to Kageyama’s house, but as he neared the corner, he realized he needed to calm the heck down before he did something stupid like crash in through the front gates of the building.

He saw that his personal phone had already got disconnected from Kageyama’s call and Kuroo Tetsuro was on the other line, his name flashing on the screen of his secure work phone.

“I am here” Kuroo’s voice spoke up as soon as Oikawa picked up his call. “I have my sniper rifle trained at the entrance. I will cover you from here. Sawamura is already in the front yard.”

“Did you guys see anything?” Oikawa asked, pulling his gun out of the glove compartment, and checking to make sure he had the glock strapped on to his ankle before silently stepping out of the car.

“Not a thing” Kuroo said, his voice now coming in from the tiny earpiece that Oikawa adjusted into his left ear. “It looks too normal; it might be an ambush.”

Oikawa slinked into the shadows, slowly making his way to the front door, crouching down to keep his head below the line of sight of the windows of the building. He saw Sawamura on the other side of the door, his back pressed against the wall, and he gave him a small nod. Sawamura slowly reached out and touched the door, which slid open soundlessly. Alarm bells started going off in Oikawa's head and at the dark look on Sawamura's face, he knew they were both thinking the same thing: that door should have been locked. Tensed, Oikawa slipped inside cautiously, his gun aimed straight ahead.

Immediately a strong stench of gore assaulted his nostrils.

It was utter carnage before him. Blood was all over the place, on the floor, on the walls, splattered high over the ceiling and dripping down from the windows, the whole place almost looking black in the moonlight filtering in through the open door.

He could hear Sawamura inhale sharply behind him.

“Kuroo” Oikawa whispered, his voice strangely calm, despite the sudden fear that had his heart in a vice like grip, almost making it impossible to breathe. “Get the medics now and wake up the Deputy Director.”

He didn’t hear if Kuroo acknowledged him, a strange ringing in his ear rendering him deaf to all sounds except for the frantic beatings of his own heart. There were five bodies lying on the living room floor, gunshot wounds straight to their heads and he could vaguely register those kill shots being Kageyam’s handiwork. Sawamura had ducked off to the other rooms to check for any intruders but Oikawa couldn’t tear his eyes off the impossibly large splotches of blood on the floor, leading further into the dining area.

“All clear” Sawamura’s whisper in his earpiece sounded too loud in his head. “No one’s here. There are two more bodies in the corridor, head shot wounds straight between the eyes.”

“Kageyama” Oikawa whispered.

“Yeah” Sawamura agreed, “Definitely Kageyama’s work.”

Their guns still drawn, they silently stepped forward towards the dining area, following the trail of blood. The first thing Oikawa saw was another body lying face down on the floor, blood pooling around the open gash in his head, the backside of his head blown to smithereens where the bullet had exited his skull. The second thing he saw was the flash of a gun, reflecting off the moonlight. “Don’t move!” He growled, sliding back against the wall, taking cover, his finger tightening around the trigger. “We have you surrounded.”

“Tooru…?” a faint voice called out. 

Oikawa didn’t even register how he made it across the room. The next thing he was aware of was that he was on the floor, on his knees, his gun clattering to the floor as he held up Kageyama’s blood-soaked body in his arms. “Tobio” he mumbled, taking in faint rattling breaths, his head dizzy with relief. “Hold on, I got you.”

“Kuroo!” Sawamura shouted. “We need the medics now!”

“Stay with me” Oikawa whispered, holding Kageyama tightly, horrified at how quickly his shirt was soaking through with Kageyama’s blood. He was vaguely aware of Sawamura dropping to his knees and trying to stem the flow of blood from the various gunshot wounds on Kageyama’s person but at the back of his mind, he knew it was futile.

“Kuroo!” Sawamura was yelling now, his voice frantic.

Oikawa realized he was mumbling something unintelligible to Kageyama, his brain in too much shock to form actual words. He couldn’t feel anything anymore, his body shivering in terror as he looked down at Kageyama’s blue eyes, which were slowly losing their focus and sliding shut.

“Stay with me” Oikawa whispered, his voice breaking. “Please.”

* * *


	4. Am I going crazy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, you know how I said it would take one more chapter to wrap this up? Seems like Oikawa is going to need the whole 900 days, damn it. So, unfortunately, I have no choice but to extend the chapter count to 5. Please blame Oikawa for this.

* * *

_**Day 617 continued** _

Oikawa had always hated hospitals. They smelled like death.

Death and despair and blood—

But that can also be most likely the smell of the dried blood on his clothes; Kageyama’s blood, he reminded himself. He looked down at his hands and blinked; although he was no longer drenched in blood, he could still see Kageyama’s life seeping through the gaps in his fingers. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth in anger. Oikawa hated feeling so helpless, so helpless, and so – so useless! He slumped back furiously on the bench he was sitting on, in the hospital corridor, outside the operating room. His head was still buzzing, filling his ears with an odd ringing sound, effectively drowning out all his frantic thoughts that his brain could no longer process.

The only other sound in that empty corridor was the worried footsteps of Tsukishima, who was pacing back and forth in front of the closed doors of the OR. His face was pale, the golden-brown eyes behind his glasses looked dazed and his blonde hair was disheveled, strands sticking out here and there from the way he nervously kept running his shaky hands through his hair every now and then.

Oikawa leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, mainly to avoid the anxious glances that Kuroo kept shooting at both the jittery blonde and at him. Oikawa was cognizant enough to sense that he was unable to think objectively right now, to engage in any sort of conversation; and mercifully, Kuroo had said nothing so far to break the oppressive silence that hung around them like a shroud. Because frankly, Oikawa did not know what to say. He must have lost the motor function of his brain for he could hardly open his mouth to form any words or find the strength in his legs to stay upright anymore.

A gentle tap on his shoulder and Oikawa’s eyes flew open.

Iwaizumi was looking down at him, his brows furrowed in concern. And just like that, Oikawa could suddenly feel the suffocating weight on his chest lessen a bit and he managed to let out a raspy wheeze.

“Iwa—” Oikawa tried to get his throat to work.

Iwaizumi gripped his shoulder and jerked his head towards the other end of the corridor. “Let’s get you something to drink, shall we?”

Oikawa nodded dumbly and silently followed Iwaizumi to the hospital cafeteria, gripping tightly on to the jacket that Iwaizumi had thrown around his shoulders. Apparently, the fact that they were in a hospital didn’t mean that Oikawa could walk around in a shirt that had turned stiff from dried blood, the original color of the garment no longer discernible.

They found a table in the far corner and Iwaizumi pressed a hot cup of instant coffee in Oikawa’s hand. “Grab a seat, I’ll get us something more to eat.”

The place was empty; there was only one other occupied table with a nurse in blue hospital garbs, her tired eyes moving rapidly down the notes in front of her; and a janitor on the other end of the room mopping the floor near the water cooler, the sound of the mop swishing across the tiled floor sounding unnaturally loud in the nearly deserted cafeteria. Iwaizumi returned and placed a bowl of hot soup and some stale looking bread on the table in front of him.

“Take a sip” Iwaizumi encouraged, and not knowing what else to do, Oikawa obeyed. The coffee was bitter and disgusting and tasted like dishwater, but he forced himself to take another sip and not spit it out.

“Sawamura told me everything.” Iwaizumi began purposely, shredding the bread into tiny pieces and dropping it on the soup bowl.

Oikawa nodded, his hands around the cup clenching involuntarily. Suddenly he couldn’t decipher if the bitterness in his mouth was due to the coffee or due to his simmering rage. “I will kill them.” he found himself growling instead.

“From what I heard, Kageyama already took care of that.” Iwaizumi pushed the bowl in front of Oikawa and without saying a word, Oikawa put the cup aside and pulled the bowl closer. He picked the spoon and scooped up the broth and soaked pieces of the bread and took a mouthful.

Iwaizumi hummed his approval and leaned back on the chair, nursing his own cup of coffee in his hand.

“It was an ambush.” Oikawa glowered at the bowl. “A contract killing.”

Iwaizumi inhaled sharply, but Oikawa didn’t give him a chance to speak. “I know” he looked at Iwaizumi, jaws clenched. “I know it’s a part of the job. But this – whatever this is— “he waved his hand around “it’s personal.” It had to be, Oikawa thought viciously, otherwise it made no sense. “Tell me Iwa chan” he continued, the smoldering anger in his belly spreading out to the ends of his fingertips, making the spoon shake in his hand. “How many incidents are you aware of— even rumors— where eight assassins are sent to kill off one person?”

“Nine” Iwaizumi whispered.

“What?” Oikawa asked, dropping the spoon with a clatter on the bowl, genuinely surprised.

“Nine assassins” Iwaizumi clarified. “There were nine assassins. There was another body in the kitchen.”

Oikawa gawped at him, stunned. “Fucking hell—” he squeezed his eyes shut, swearing under his breath; his hands gripping the table so hard, his fingers hurt. Iwaizumi reached out and clutched Oikawa’s wrist across the table. “Look at me.” He said softly. “Look at me Tooru.” With a tremendous effort, Oikawa managed to muster his self-control and opened his eyes to find the concerned gaze of his best friend focused on him.

“Good.” Iwaizumi nodded, the expression on his face relaxing a bit and he let go of his wrist.

“This is insane” Oikawa hissed. “This is fucking insane.”

“Yeah”

“They had to know him, Iwa chan! They had to know! His blind spots, his weaknesses!”

“Yeah”

“They had to know his routines- his, his habits!”

“Yeah”

“They had to know him! They had to know him inside out.” Oikawa felt like he was going mad. “To try to pull this off – this brazen attempt on his life!”

Iwaizumi frowned, taking a thoughtful swill of his coffee. 

“It’s outrageous! Who the hell sends nine assassins to kill off one person?” Oikawa challenged, looking Iwaizumi squarely in the eye.

“No one” Iwaizumi agreed.

“Exactly” Oikawa picked up his discarded coffee and knocked it back in one gulp. “No one does that.” He grimaced. “It is way too excessive and completely over the top.”

“Unless you are trying to take down Kageyama” Iwaizumi’s voice sounded strained, a flash of comprehension flickering in his eyes. “Specifically trying to take him down.”

“Yes” Oikawa nodded. “And you would have to know Kageyama well enough to realize-” He raised his right hand and lifted one finger up. “That even half a dozen assassins are not enough, you have to send more.” He lifted his second finger; “They have to be highly trained, in fact, specifically trained to know all his blind spots and target them.” he put his third finger up. “Heavily armed; enough to take out almost a whole squad of soldiers, not just one man.” He had three fingers up now. “That’s the only way they would have any shot at eliminating him.” He stared at Iwaizumi, who was looking increasingly uncomfortable. “I have seen Kageyama take down five people” he carried on, curling his fingers into a fist, and gripping it so tight, he could feel his fingernails digging into the palm of his hand. “With his left hand” he added “in as much time as it would take for you and me to blink twice.”

Iwaizumi shook his head. “Anyone would know – I mean, whoever—” he fell silent, the words dying in his mouth.

“Really?” Oikawa asked pointedly. “Who would know him that well?”

“Seems like you do” Iwaizumi said slowly.

“I do” Oikawa agreed. “And that’s only because he’s my partner and we have been working together for close to 2 years now.” Two years. Two years was a long time, a long time to get to know someone.

There was an uneasy silence.

“Whatever you are thinking of doing next” Iwaizumi hunched forward across the table, his tone serious. “you need to be very careful. Very careful.”

“I know that” Oikawa tensed, his anger flaring at the edges again.

“Do you?” Iwaizumi shot back. “Do you know the implications of what you are saying? What you are implying? The consequences of what will happen if you are wrong?”

“Consequences?” Oikawa snapped. “Kageyama is getting operated right now! We don’t even know if he will make it out alive! What consequences are you talking about?”

“It’s not your battle to fight.” Iwaizumi cautioned, his voice carrying a hint of a warning.

Oikawa stood up abruptly, the chair he was sitting on tipped over and hit the floor with a loud crash. He realized straight away that he was breathing too fast, that his face felt too hot from all the blood rushing to his head, that he knew Iwaizumi was right but dammit! He can’t just sit still and not do anything!

“He’s dying Iwa chan! I almost lost him! I might still lose him!” he ground out, anger driving the words out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

“Our work makes us put our life on the line, every single day, in the name of duty.” Iwaizumi pointed out, folding his arms across his chest. “When we were in the Armed Forces and now here, when we are still fighting the enemies of the state.” He looked up at Oikawa defiantly. “It’s part of the job.”

Oikawa felt as if someone had hit him with a wrecking ball, crushed his chest and surely perforated his lungs for he couldn’t breathe anymore. Something of that ridiculous pain and disbelief must have shown on his face for suddenly, Iwaizumi was looking at him, his face stricken. 

“Shit!” Iwaizumi leapt up on his feet, his eyes going wide as he realized what he had just said. “Shit! I am sorry— I don’t know why I said that!” He scrambled around the table and grabbed Oikawa by the arm. “I don’t mean it like that! You know—”

“I know what you are talking about” Oikawa said, his voice strangely calm, even though he was still staggering from Iwaizumi’s blunt words. He gently tried to pry Iwaizumi’s hand off his arm. “And you are right, it’s not my battle to fight. And yes, you are also right- death is part of our job description”

Iwaizumi did not let go, he gripped his arm tighter and shook his head. “You know I didn’t mean it that way.” He repeated, distraught. Oikawa looked away but he didn’t protest when Iwaizumi lead him back to the chair.

“I am sorry” Iwaizumi said earnestly. He dragged another chair next to Oikawa and sat down on it, facing him so that their knees were almost touching. The cafeteria was starting to get noisier with more people coming in and out, and their voices were now part of the gradual chatter slowly filling up the room.

“I know you have been looking around.” Iwaizumi lowered his voice as a harried looking nurse with a tray walked up to the booth next to their table and sat down on it, barely looking in their direction. “And I know you have been thinking about it for more than a year now, the unusual circumstances I mean, with how the deputy director just dumped Kageyama on you. And I can read between the lines here, about what you are thinking—”

The shrill buzz of a pager going off interrupted Iwaizumi. The nurse next to their table swore loudly, pulled up his pager and hurriedly gathered his untouched tray. 

“I am just not sure-” Iwaizumi faltered, trying to capture his lost train of thoughts.

“I am perfectly capable” Oikawa folded his arms and stared at him. “I am not a rookie, you know.”

For a few seconds, Iwaizumi stared back at him and Oikawa steadily held his gaze, refusing to back down. “Ok” Iwaizumi sighed. “You stubborn bastard. You have already made up your mind, haven’t you?”

And for the first time, in what felt like years, Oikawa could finally feel a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

* * *

_**Day 619** _

There had only been a very few instances in his life so far, where Oikawa had willingly done something so reckless. The fact that he hadn’t slept in days most likely was a contributing factor in whatever thought process had led him to stand outside the door of Ushijima’s residence at 11:30 in the night. The scorching heat of his anger was making him dizzy and he could barely feel the bitter chill of the night through the thin fabric of his shirt and trousers. And now that he was already standing in front of the door, he didn’t give himself another opportunity to reconsider his decision. He pulled his phone out, dialed the number, and waited.

It rang once, twice, three time—

He resisted the urge to ring the doorbell, instead forcing himself not to crush the phone in his hand. He was about to disconnect and try again when a light switched on inside the house, the orange glow blurry through the frosted glass around the door. He lowered the phone as Ushijima opened the door. Even in the faint glow of the light, Oikawa could see the dark shadows under Ushijima’s eyes, and he noticed he was still wearing the same clothes that he had worn to work that day. Ushijima stepped aside, nodding at him and Oikawa realized that he was waiting for him to show up. He didn’t know how to feel about that, but he followed Ushijima inside the house, as he led them to his study. The hallway was dimly lit, the floorboards creaking under their feet. Ushijima pushed open the heavy teak doors to his study and a roaring fire in the old stone hearth greeted them, the sudden warmth in the room making Oikawa shiver. 

“You seem to be working late” Oikawa stated, gesturing at his messy desk. “In the dark.” He added.

“You are one to talk” Ushijima chuckled without humor, shuffling the papers over the big mahogany desk, and piling them up in an untidy stack to the side. He sat down on the leather chair. “Unless this is a social visit?”

Oikawa ignored his comment and instead walked over to stand by the fireplace, the heat radiating from the hot coals seeping into his skin. A giant oil painting hung on the wall, but Oikawa’s eyes were drawn to the framed pictures on the mantelpiece and he gently reached out and picked the one in the center: a framed black and white picture. Ushijima had his right arm around Oikawa’s shoulder, and they were standing outside Shimizu Kiyoko’s winter cabin in the mountains. Shimizu was sitting on a bench to the left, smiling at the camera and a very harassed looking Kuroo was yelling something at Oikawa, who was sticking his tongue out at him.

“You were expecting me.” It was not a question. He traced the outline of the picture with his fingers.

“Yes.” Ushijima replied, watching him steadily. 

“Since when?” He carefully put the picture back on the mantel.

“For quite some time now.” Ushijima confessed. “Though recent unfortunate events might have forced your hand.” The flickering flames cast a pale reddish yellow glow across Ushijima’s face, bringing his cheekbones to sharp focus.

“Fine choice of words you have there.” Oikawa sneered, his temper flaring. Ushijima preferred not to say anything; the ticking of the grandfather clock behind Ushijima’s desk sounded obnoxiously loud as the seconds slowly slipped by and a tense silence fell between them. When Oikawa had first driven over to Ushijima’s place, he wasn’t really thinking anything; he had no idea what to say or how to say it or even where to begin. But one thing was for sure, he had to get to the truth. And looking at Ushijima now, staring at him warily from behind the desk, Oikawa knew straight away, without any shadow of a doubt, that he was right. That Oikawa was right all along.

“I came here to tell you a story.” Oikawa walked around the stuffed armchair facing the fireplace and strode over to the desk, letting his instincts take over. “A story that revolves around one man.” He placed his hands on the desk and leaned forward, his eyes blazing. 

“Sakusa Kiyoomi.” Oikawa whispered softly.

He watched carefully, his eyes taking the way Ushijima flinched slightly, barely a wince, easily overlooked by anyone who didn’t know Ushijima as well as Oikawa did. But it was there.

“You don’t know what you are talking about.”

And that was it. Any speck of doubt Oikawa might have had, any hesitation in what he was about to do; every single reservation vaporized right then and there at Ushijima’s response.

“No” Oikawa agreed. “And that’s why I am here. To tell you my story. Off the records.”

“Tooru.” Ushijima sighed. “I just don’t think you are in the right frame of mind to talk about this.” 

“Try me” Oikawa straightened up and started pacing the floor in front of the desk. “Or would you rather prefer to fill in the gaps as I tell you what I think happened with Sakusa Kiyoomi?”

He looked back at the Deputy Director; his face hidden in the shadows. When Ushijima didn’t respond, Oikawa decided to go all in and let appropriacy and policies of official conduct fuck themselves. 

“One fine day” he began “I walked into my office and who should be standing there, but Kageyama Tobio: the prodigy, the brightest, the best and the scariest operative to have ever worked for the bureau. And what was he doing there? Apparently, he was my new partner” Oikawa laughed, sounding delirious as he paced back and forth. “So, the question was: why? It was completely against standard procedures; I was not notified, and I was not expected to ask questions. But is that true?”

He stopped and regarded Ushijima who was watching him apprehensively. “You know I am not someone to just sit back and take orders meekly, without knowing and understanding _why_. Did that mean you wanted me to dig around? Did that mean you wanted me to find out why?” He wasn’t expecting an answer and Ushijima did not provide him one. “Of course, I would try to find out! But everywhere I looked, it was a dead end. Every turn I took, every lead I tried to follow, everything led to nothing. Nothing!”

“You realize how unusual that is?” Oikawa jammed his hands into his pockets, standing back and trying to swallow the rage that was threatening to claw its way out of his throat. There was nothing to be gained by losing his temper, so he forced himself to turn around and walk away to the further end of the study. He could sense Ushijima’s eyes following his every movement in the darkness, listening intently.

“Even with my high level of security clearance, I couldn’t find a trace of anything! And that’s when it struck me” Oikawa looked at him from across the room. “I was chasing a ghost.”

Ushijima’s face didn’t give anything away.

“Literally” Oikawa whispered. “And suddenly, it was like opening Pandora’s box. But then, when has self-preservation ever been my strongest trait? I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

“Tooru—"

“I am not done yet” Oikawa growled. “I am not fucking done yet.”

Something on his face must have unnerved Ushijima for he settled back on his chair and kept his mouth shut.

“Now you see” Oikawa carried on, starting to pace the floor again. “I could find traces of Kageyama here and there, classified and redacted mostly but he still had a record. This can only mean one thing: if it’s not related to Kageyama, it would have to be something related to his partner. And surprise, surprise, no one had a damn clue about who his partner was!” He threw his hands up in the air, vaguely aware that he was working himself up into a fury but at this point, he just didn’t have the energy to care anymore. “And then-” he whipped around, his voice dripping with venom. “You bring in Miya Atsumu to the team. This M.A.L.A.R.K.E.Y shit about coordination and cooperation between different law enforcement agencies. Again, why? Why now? And why Miya and specifically why Interpol?”

It was a struggle for Oikawa to pull himself together in the face of his resentment, but he took in a deep breath and kept going. “But you know what was the biggest surprise? Miya Atsumu addressed Kageyama as Tobio Kun. And you know why that was a surprise? Because Kageyama Tobio is a stickler for tradition. Why the heck do you think I call him Tobio chan? Because it annoys the hell out of him. No way would he have been ok with anyone addressing him with such familiarity, calling him Tobio Kun if they were not close enough!" He strode over to Ushijima, his long legs covering the distance in seconds. “Now that was interesting wasn’t it?” he glared, clutching the edge of the desk with both his hands. “They must have worked closely together, on countless assignments; spanning over months, years maybe- to get to be that familiar with each other.”

The flicker of the flames from the fireplace warmed his back but despite the shadows, he could still see Ushijima’s eyes gleam with interest.

“That’s what gave it away?” Ushijima asked. “Miya called him Tobio Kun?”

“It was a start” Oikawa nodded, his anger abating a bit at Ushijima’s acknowledgement. “Pointed me in the right direction. I now knew where to look. Interpol was involved and obviously Kageyama was working closely with them. It had to be a matter for international concern. But I was still not hundred percent sure, that was until I had a very captivating lunch conversation about three months ago with Miya.”

He turned around, letting the words sink in. “He expected me to know stuff and was honestly surprised that I didn’t.” He scowled, memories of that conversation flooding back. “Miya is not a fool. He quickly realized I didn’t know anything and so he changed tracks. He started dropping innocent hints instead, knowing I would catch on. That made me wonder you see; he was willing to take such a calculated risk by bringing up something which was clearly classified, but he was worried enough to do so. I shut him up before he could say anything more and get into serious trouble. However, the question here again was why? Why would Miya take such a risk?”

“Carry on” Ushijima leaned forward, putting his elbows on the desk, and lacing his fingers together, rested his chin on top. He was watching Oikawa with open fascination now.

The anger was back in full force, churning at the pit of his stomach and Oikawa started pacing again, no longer able to stand still. “That terrorist attack almost a year ago. Outrageous wasn’t it? We are not at war anymore, but we still violated every treaty of the Geneva convention, every Human Rights act imaginable. Oh, trust me, I am not one to show any mercy towards these terrorist scum and you know it! You sent me precisely for that reason, to eliminate any possible loose links, to make sure no one escaped alive – so that no one could talk. It was to send a very clear message, to the mastermind or whoever is orchestrating this play: you hit us, we hit you back harder, no questions asked. Now I had to ask myself though: who is this person pulling the strings, who is this person who can make Ushijima Wakatoshi go to such lengths?”

“So now you see, the story was getting more and more riveting.” Oikawa snarled. “This was clearly a matter of international security and I didn’t have to look back much further to see the plot unravel. What is it that they are after? Blatant terrorism? International espionage?” He looked at Ushijima. “What if they are targeting our Defense systems? Well, guess what? Suddenly, we have multiple reports and intelligence briefings about foreign operatives targeting the Defense Secretary. Isn’t that an absolutely compelling piece of information?”

Oikawa was breathing hard, his heart racing. “And you- you very conveniently were able to place Kageyama right in the middle of the action. Exactly positioned to eliminate the scumbags who were sent to kill the secretary.” He huffed softly. “Your orders remember? Unsanctioned, off the records assignment with clear instructions on shoot to kill? Those poor bastards had no chance against Kageyama. You were sending a message again. And again, was the question: to whom?”

“Things must have been getting really bad.” Oikawa stopped, the blazing fire in the hearth doing nothing to stop the chill that went down his spine. “Kageyama was away more frequently than usual; on these secret missions that you kept sending him on. And then Miya’s cryptic warnings- Kageyama must have been close to cracking the case and that’s when the enemy realized they needed to take him out if they had any hopes of succeeding. And you see, this person, this mastermind, whoever this guy was- he had to be the one behind all this.”

Oikawa paused to gather his thoughts. “They had no choice but to attempt to neutralize the threat that was Kageyama. And that was because both of you together were foiling every plan that they had come up with. Those were the assignments you were sending Kageyama on, weren’t you? It had to be! it had to be this person— the one that the Bureau was sending such a strong message to.”

Oikawa suddenly felt exhausted, his mouth dry, his head dizzy from lack of sleep.

“Do you realize” he grabbed onto the back of the armchair, his fingers digging into the fabric painfully. “how extensively you must work with someone to be able to predict their every move, to be able to know exactly what their weaknesses are and to be able to exploit those weaknesses? Whoever sent those hitmen knew. They knew exactly how Kageyama would react. They knew it would take more than half a dozen trained assassins, ex special operatives by the looks of it, armed with military grade weapons and skilled enough to use them, just for a shot to take him down. Now who can know Kageyama that well?”

The question hung in the air in the sudden silence; the soft pop of a log settling down on the fire sent a few sparks in the air.

“His partner” Ushijima exhaled finally.

“Yes” Oikawa admitted. “His partner. Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

“And you see, the puzzle pieces started falling in place. The answer was M.A.L.A.R.K.E.Y. all along.” Oikawa choked, letting out a shaky breath. “this whole stupid M.A.L.A.R.K.E.Y initiative- it’s a front. It’s a smokescreen- to cover up an operation to resolve an international problem, a problem big enough that it has us scrambling to put out a wildfire; Interpol, our agency and god know how many other departments and governments are involved. Just to resolve one problem. One! Sakusa Kiyoomi.” Oikawa couldn’t help the bitter laughter from escaping his throat. “What audacity.” he shook his head. “I am impressed.”

For a few seconds, there was absolute stillness in the room. Oikawa felt bizarrely empty, like he had been running on fumes for so long and now, he could do nothing to prevent himself from crashing. Another bout of dizziness crept up on him and the room seemed to lurch unexpectedly to the right.

“I am almost tempted to ask what else you know.” Ushijima pushed back his chair, picked up the glass of water next to him and walked around the desk, towards the fireplace where Oikawa was barely able to keep standing on his feet. “In fact, I am amazed you could find out Sakusa’s name.” 

Oikawa frowned at him; his exhaustion barely able to contain his incredulity. “Are you trying to insult me, Wakatoshi?”

“No” Ushijima sighed, gesturing towards the armchair in front of the fireplace. “No, I am not. Take a seat, Tooru. You look ready to keel over. Caffeine can only go so far to keep you up on your feet for so long” Oikawa glowered at him but accepted the glass of water that Ushijima offered him, drained it in one go and plonked himself down on the armchair. Ushijima crouched in front of the fireplace and used the fireiron to adjust the logs, a welcome flare of heat bursting out from the simmering embers. “I would have offered you something stronger, but I don’t think your body can handle anything more than water right now.”

There was a soft purring sound, followed by a warm body squishing against Oikawa’s ankles. He absentmindedly reached down to stroke the furry head with his fingers “Hey Volleyball” Oikawa cooed gently, the orange and white cat nudging his hand affectionately. “Sorry if I woke you up.” Volleyball meowed smoothly and jumped up onto the armchair, curling up and settling down across Oikawa’s lap.

“You are sitting on his favorite chair” Ushijima chuckled, reaching out and scratching Volleyball behind the ears. The cat let out a contented meow and gave Oikawa’s hand a tiny lick.

“That was quite a story” Ushijima muttered, pushing himself on his feet and flopping down on the chair next to the armchair. “That was definitely quite a story you had there. How long have you been digging? Wait, don’t answer that question.”

“It is rather easy to connect the dots from here” Oikawa slowly ran his fingers across Volleyball’s furry head, the warm reassuring weight of the cat on his lap easing the tension in his body a bit. “The story is not over yet. I have a lot more to—"

Ushijima shook his head gently. “And I would rather you don’t say anything more than what you already have.”

Sitting this close to him, Oikawa could see how haggard and disheveled Ushijima looked but the genuine concern on his face helped Oikawa somehow regain some semblance of his composure. He nodded wordlessly and leaned back against the chair, completely deflated. He squeezed his tired eyes shut; all the fight drained out of him. Oikawa could sense Ushijima observing him, his gaze almost burning through his closed eyelids. “Tooru” he asked him in a quiet voice. “When was the last time you slept?” 

“What?” Oikawa mumbled, too exhausted to open his eyes.

“I know you have not left Kageyama’s side since you found him.” Ushijima said kindly. “You were beside yourself when the medics arrived, Tooru. They had to pry Kageyama out of your arms, you just wouldn’t let go.” 

Oikawa suddenly felt exposed, very vulnerable— very very defenseless… and he did not want to see what sort of expression Ushijima was wearing; not when Oikawa was sitting there like a fool, his heart written all over his face. He turned his head away, refusing to open his eyes. Volleyball purred softly in his lap. Oikawa concentrated hard on the words he wanted to say next. “What has that got to do with Sakusa?” he whispered at last.

For a long time, Ushijima did not respond. The logs in the fireplace popped and snapped from the heat, the crackling fire almost lulling Oikawa to sleep.

“You know very well I cannot say anything to either deny or confirm whatever you have said to me today.” Oikawa was struggling not to succumb to his fatigue, and Ushijima’s words seemed to come from very far away. “I cannot share classified information and some of the things I would have to tell you, for your story- some of them are top secret. I know this has been unfair to you, I know that. It has been hard on all of us. And now with Kageyama… I cannot even begin to grasp what you must be going through right now.”

Oikawa tried to come back with some words, tried to open his eyes; but his eyelids felt like they had been glued shut and he just didn’t have the strength to push them open anymore. “Give me some time.” Ushijima’s earnest voice washed over him, and Oikawa’s limbs felt too heavy to move. “I swear I am working on it. Just give me a few more days, a couple weeks more Tooru, and I promise you, I will make sure that you have all the missing pieces to complete your story.”

Oikawa could barely make a sound, and at the edge of his consciousness he was vaguely aware that Ushijima was reaching out and gently removing Oikawa’s shoes and propping his legs up comfortably on the chair across. He tried to say something, to move, but the warm comfortable weight of Volleyball in his lap and the thin blanket that Ushijima draped across him was the last thing he remembered before finally giving in to his weariness and falling asleep on the armchair in front of the fireplace. 

* * *

_**Day 621** _

Three things struck Oikawa as he blinked his eyes open.

First, he must have dozed off for a couple of minutes on one of the most uncomfortable chairs possible. His stiff neck protested vehemently when he attempted to sit upright, and his left shoulder hurt from where he must have put all his weight on while he nodded off. He pulled a face, valiantly trying to brush aside the pulsating headache that was promising to split his skull in two.

Second, Tsukishima had, somehow or the other, managed to fall asleep on the chair next to the hospital bed by folding his tall body into a very awkward and painful looking position. His chin was resting on his chest, his glasses askew on his nose but miraculously, hadn’t slid off his face yet.

And third, Kageyama was staring at him from straight across the hospital room.

Oikawa scrambled up to his feet, almost tripping over his shoes in his haste to get up. “Tsukishima!” he yelled, crossing over to the hospital bed in seconds. “Tsukishima!”

Tsukishima lurched awake, blinking stupidly for a few seconds before his mind registered what was happening and he sprang to his feet, instantly at Kageyama’s side.

Oikawa opened his mouth, but his brain refused to formulate any words, such a staggering rush of relief crashing through him at the sight of Kageyama’s slightly dazed looking face that his heart almost stopped working. Kageyama’s eyes followed his every movement, blinking at him slowly, his black hair standing out vividly against his pale face.

Tsukishima was staring at Kageyama, a stunned look on his face, which was slowly giving way to a small smile of intense relief. Oikawa wanted to reach out, to touch Kageyama’s face, his arm, to feel him breath, to press his ear against his chest to make sure his heart was beating strong— However, Oikawa did none of that; instead, he reached out and pressed the button next to the bed, ringing for the nurse on duty. 

Minutes later, he was standing further away from the bed, leaning his shoulder against the wall, unsure of what to do next or what to feel. He watched awkwardly as Tsukishima helped the nurse gently prop Kageyama up onto the pillows, watched the nurse fiddle around with the tubes and the medical equipment, watched as she examined the bandages around Kageyama’s torso, prodded him a bit, nodded with satisfaction and had then left, stating she will get the doctor for a quick check and evaluation.

“It’s good to have you back.” Tsukishima said. “You had us worried for a while.”

_Part of the job_ \- Iwaizumi’s words came stinging back in his mind and Oikawa could perceive his headache coming back with a vengeance. HHe registered that Tsukishima was saying something, nervously fussing with the blanket on Kageyama’s lap. “I was going to contact Miwa san today; I would have contacted her earlier, but I know how you get about that—"

Kageyama Miwa, his older sister. Oikawa had met her once, last year, when he had to drive Kageyama to the airport to pick her up that weekend when she had come to visit. “When are you going to get your own car, Tobio chan?” he had asked, waiting for Kageyama to fasten his seatbelt. “Why do I need a car when I have you?” Kageyama had replied so matter of factly, that Oikawa could only ogle at him. “Cheeky bastard.” He had grumbled, having no other retort.

Tsukishima had moved on to slide the windows open, letting the sunshine into the room. A whiff of strong disinfectant still lingered in the air and a gentle breeze from the window blew the distinct smell around, and Oikawa inhaled deeply, trying to sort through his thoughts. He felt surreal, desolate; it was as if the last few days had wrung every possible emotion out of him and had left him stark and bereft of any capability to feel anything anymore. 

“Sawamura san had picked up some of your clothes” Tsukishima was clutching a dark blue t-shirt with the words ‘Setter Soul’ written across the front in bold white letters. Oikawa listened quietly; his feet crossed at the ankles, letting Tsukishima fill in the silence in the room with his chatter. He was hyper aware that Kageyama’s eyes were fixed on him, his gaze solemn and unyielding. But Oikawa was suddenly too paralyzed to move, too scared to look back so rather than say or do anything, he decided to keep his head down and concentrated on inspecting the toes of the cigar-colored leather shell boots he was wearing instead.

He was so engrossed in his endeavor that it took him awhile to figure out that Tsukishima had stopped talking. A strained silence flooded the room, forcing him to flick his eyes up to find Tsukishima staring at him with an odd expression on his face.

“What?” Oikawa cleared his throat.

“Nothing” Tsukishima hesitated, his glance quickly flicking towards Kageyama before focusing back on him. “I will go check—” he stammered. “Check why it’s taking so long for the doctor. Yeah.” He edged towards the door, looking uncertain before stepping out and closing the door shut behind him with a sharp click.

The passage of time slowed down to a crawl and Oikawa held his breath, briefly wondering if he could get away with not acknowledging Kageyama’s piercing gaze, which, for all intents and purposes, was boring a hole in Oikawa’s head. There was no escaping the inevitable however, and with his heart battering against his ribcage, he nervously looked up, finally meeting Kageyama’s eyes.

“Hey, Tobio chan” he smiled feebly, running his hand through his hair.

Kageyama didn’t respond.

Oikawa fidgeted with the hem of his jacket, wondering what else to say. Good to see you? Glad you are awake? I almost lost my freaking mind and threatened the Deputy Director? Oikawa had not really given himself much time to think about what he would say to Kageyama once he woke up; he was too busy trying to hold on to any remnants of his sanity. But he also knew that whenever in doubt, it was always best to just get straight to the point. Making up his mind at long last, Oikawa sighed abjectly, pushed himself on to his feet and walked over to Kageyama’s side, acutely aware of how Kageyama was still looking fixedly at him.

“I know what you are thinking.” Oikawa said, studying the pale face. “And I know exactly how you feel. So, I have a proposition for you Tobio chan.” He leaned in closer, careful not to jostle him. “Let’s not waste our time lying on our backs. I need you back on your feet. We have got a lot of work to do.”

Kageyama held his gaze steady for what seemed like a very long time and just when Oikawa started to doubt himself on whether he had said the wrong thing, Kageyama slowly closed his eyes and finally, finally gave a small nod.

* * *

_**Day 640** _

Oikawa had been watching.

In fact, that’s all he had been doing, pretty much for the past four days.

It was the fifth day today since Kageyama had been discharged from the hospital and relegated to desk work till he was deemed fit enough to get back to active duty on the field. Oikawa has spent the entire morning and the afternoon surreptitiously shooting covert glances at Kageyama, waiting for something to finally give. So far, Kageyama had not done anything more dangerous than banging shut one of his desk drawers and scowling really hard at a file he was reading, as if it had personally offended him. 

Oikawa was on tenterhooks, expecting Kageyama to flip his lid anytime soon. At least he looked better now than he had in days, he noticed warily. The dark circles were fading, the hollow cheeks were starting to fill out, the stitches were gone, and Oikawa could no longer see the bandages underneath his collar. Apart from the strapped right wrist, the only other physical evidence of his ordeal was his left arm in a stiff sling, and the crutch leaning next to his desk. Oikawa also noticed him wince occasionally, whenever he made any sudden movements but otherwise, he almost seemed back to normal.

It had been weeks since Oikawa had confronted the Deputy Director at his home and since then, he had hardly caught a glimpse of the man. He knew he was trying to kick a hornet’s nest, messing around with confidential and classified information. That was one of the main reasons he had not brought the topic up with Kageyama yet; he knew Kageyama won’t be able to tell him anything about the attack, even if he wanted to. However, Oikawa did not know how much longer he could endure this secrecy. If things didn't start rolling soon, he might be the one to do something pretty drastic; and he was not sure if he should be disturbed by the fact that he didn't feel any remorse in contemplating the cold-blooded murder of a former colleague, turned potential rogue agent. That is, if Oikawa’s theory held.

He continued to watch as Kageyama scowled through some more files, crushed the empty packet of milk he had been drinking and tossed it flippantly into the wastepaper basket. Tsukishima had kept up a steady supply of boxed milk packets and yogurt drinks throughout the week so far to keep him appeased and Oikawa made a mental note offhandedly that he really needed to have an in-depth conversation with Tsukishima to find out what else was there that could keep Kageyama subdued. 

Oikawa realized his thoughts were diving into dangerous territory, stirring up feelings that he was not ready to acknowledge yet, and so just to distract himself from his own thoughts, he got up from the chair and asked aloud “I am going to go get some coffee. Do you want me to get you anything?”

Kageyama glanced up at him and shook his head no. Oikawa fled the room.

He walked down the hallway, his hands in his pocket, his head in the clouds; distracting and confusing thoughts and emotions chasing each other in a merry circle in his messed-up brain. Oikawa knew better than anyone that whenever someone experienced a traumatic event, the body created a stress response, mainly as a defense mechanism, which may make people feel a variety of things, maybe even behave differently and sometimes experience more intense emotions. He reasoned that having his partner almost dying in his arms definitely qualified as one of those traumatic experiences; and hence by extension, all these strong feelings that he had been experiencing towards Kageyama lately, had to be because of that. Yeah, he rationalized with himself; that made perfect sense.

So engrossed was he in trying to sort through his conflicted feelings, that he almost ran headfirst into Kuroo. “Are you alright?” Kuroo asked, getting out of the way.

“Yeah, I think so.” Oikawa replied. “Sorry about that, I have been a bit preoccupied lately.”

“I don’t blame you.” Kuroo replied grimly. “It’s been difficult, the past few weeks.”

“Yeah.” Oikawa scratched the back of his neck. “I feel like I am sitting on a stack of dynamite, waiting for it to explode.” He lowered his voice, nodding at Kuroo. “Kageyama has been acting frighteningly normal, like way too normal. He has not even raised his voice or acted frustrated even once. In fact, he almost looks content doing nothing but paperwork. You know how freaky that is? He hates paperwork!”

“So, he is not really acting normal then, is he? If he is happy doing paperwork?” Kuroo offered. “Maybe he is brooding?”

“Kageyama doesn’t brood.” Oikawa explained, with all the patience of a teacher dealing with a particularly stubborn child. “He scowls and frowns and tries to set his files on fire while he quietly plans out a hundred different ways on how to take down his enemies.”

“That sounds about right.” Kuroo agreed. “So, what were you planning to do about it?”

“I was actually going to ask Iwa chan to go and scold him.” Oikawa sighed.

“Oh?” Kuroo gave him a quizzical look. “Why don’t you talk to him instead? If you can’t get to him, I doubt Iwaizumi can.”

“I have never been good with all these heavy-duty conversations.” Oikawa shook his head sadly. “I never know what to say and more often than not, I end up making things worse than they originally were.”

“Hmm” Kuroo muttered, looking at Oikawa’s baleful expression. “You know-” he began carefully, and that tone immediately caught Oikawa’s attention. That’s the tone Kuroo used whenever he was going to say something that he knew Oikawa wouldn’t like. Oikawa shifted on his feet, suspicious. “You could say that to him directly.” 

“What?” Oikawa asked, his brows creasing into a frown.

“You can say what you just said to me” Kuroo said quickly, then went on. “That he can talk to you even if you don’t really know what to say; that you can at least listen.”

“How is that going to help?” Oikawa asked, genuinely curious.

“Well,” Kuroo shrugged. “Kageyama is not someone who is going to just blurt out whatever is on his mind.”

Oikawa raised an eyebrow.

“Ok, I take that back.” Kuroo sighed. “Let me reframe that. I meant about the incident- You know that better than anyone, that it had to be related to some confidential or classified assignment. Otherwise, we would have been debriefed by now.” Kuroo paused, contemplating his next words. “So, he won’t talk about the circumstances behind the attack but by at least offering to listen, you are giving him the option to reach out about anything else; whether he wants to or not, that will be up to him.”

Oikawa stared at him. “You are not making any sense.”

Kuroo chuckled and put his hand on his shoulder. “It will be fine, trust me. At least my idea is better than yours.”

“You don’t know Iwa chan” Oikawa huffed. “He can make you say stuff out loud that you were not even aware of thinking. He can pull out your deepest darkest secrets, rip your soul out and shred it to pieces. He will examine it till you have nothing left to hide and then hit you over the head with the truth, until you break down and beg for mercy.” Oikawa shivered. “Very effective way of making someone talk.”

Kuroo looked gobsmacked. “What did Iwaizumi do to you?”

Oikawa blanched. “You don’t want to know.”

Oikawa was in a considerably better mood as he headed back to his office, wrapping the warm cup of coffee in his hands. Maybe Kuroo was right; before throwing Kageyama to Iwaizumi, it might be worth the effort to provide him with a way out. With that thought in mind, he opened the door only to come face to face with a pair of furious blue eyes and just like that, Oikawa’s world flipped upside down; the dizzying rush of blood to his head nearly making the cup of coffee slip out of his hands. Just a stress response, he reminded himself forcefully, as he struggled to get his heart rate under control. Just an intense emotional reaction due to stress. 

“Sorry,” Kageyama mumbled, stepping back, and looking away.

“Going somewhere?” Oikawa tried to make his voice sound louder than a squeak.

“Ushijima san called.” Kageyama adjusted his weight around his injured leg. “I think he finally wants to talk.”

“I admit I am surprised.” Oikawa said. “You have been very patient about this so far.”

Kageyama observed him thoughtfully for a few moments and Oikawa shifted nervously on his feet, refusing to look anywhere else but at his coffee cup; but that didn’t last long for when Kageyama took a step towards him, Oikawa instinctively looked up. Kageyama leaned forward, his lips nearly touching Oikawa’s ear. “I am running out of patience, Oikawa san.” He said delicately, his voice scarcely audible. “I don’t know how much longer I can play this game.”

Kageyama stepped back, his gaze sweeping Oikawa’s face before resting briefly on his mouth and then flickering back up to his eyes. Oikawa couldn’t move; he stood there petrified and watched mutely as Kageyama opened the door and limped away on his crutch without a backward glance. He waited till Kageyama disappeared around the corner and then very carefully, Oikawa put the coffee cup down on top of the bookshelf nearby. He faintly noticed that his hands were shaking as he shut and locked the door, barely managing to do so before his knees turned into jelly and he slumped against the door, his head thunking softly on the wood. His eyes fluttered shut, his breath coming in desperate gasps as every nerve ending in his body was lit aflame.

Somehow, Oikawa didn’t think Kageyama was talking about work anymore.

* * *


	5. If this is what you want...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point, I honestly don't know how many chapters this will need... please don't kill me.

* * *

_ **Day 665** _

Couple of weeks turned into a month before Oikawa was finally summoned to Director Shimizu’s office. It had started off as a pretty normal day. Oikawa had woken up early, spent an hour in the apartment complex gym and after taking a long shower, had finally arrived bright and early to work. Just as he stepped into the foyer after clearing through the building security check, he came face to face with Ushijima near the elevators.

“Good morning Special Agent Oikawa.” Ushijima greeted him politely, pressing the elevator button.

Oh? It was Special Agent Oikawa today, eh? Oikawa gritted his teeth; he knew what that meant.

“Good morning Deputy Director.” Oikawa beamed.

Ushijima blinked at him. “Not now Tooru.”

“But I didn’t even say anything!”

“I know that look.” Ushijima groaned. “And I know that smile too.”

The elevator dinged just then and slid open and Ushijima stepped inside, his face devoid of any emotion. “Patience Tooru.” He reached out, pressing a button and the elevator door shut close, leaving Oikawa standing there, staring at his reflection on the steel doors, feeling frustrated.

Fuck patience. Oikawa glowered as he moodily stomped over to his office. He was seriously going insane, with all this uncertainty. He pushed the door open and for the second time in the last ten minutes, came face to face with someone; this time Mai Nametsu, who was in the middle of the room, walking towards the door. And just like that, his mouth started talking before his brain could even comprehend what he was trying to do.

“That’s a lovely scarf, Nametsu san.”

Mai Nametsu, the executive secretary for Shimizu Kiyoko, slowed down and glanced at Oikawa. From what Oikawa could gather, it looked like she had stopped by to drop off a stack of what seemed like some very important documents on Kageyama’s desk, and was just leaving their office when Oikawa had walked in.

“It’s a really nice color,” Oikawa went on, giving her a dazzling smile. “It enhances your eyes and compliments your outfit.”

Nametsu looked wary but she stopped and stood next to Oikawa’s desk. Oikawa took that as a positive sign. “In fact,” Oikawa persisted, tilting his head in a way he hoped would make him look mesmerized. “I have always admired your sense of style.”

Nametsu raised her eyebrow.

“Effortless elegance,” Oikawa continued, running his hand through his hair, and walking over to the side of the desk to casually lean back on it, his arms crossed.

“What do you want, Oikawa san?” Nametsu rolled her eyes.

Oikawa pouted, dropping his arms to his side, and standing up straight. “Can you at least pretend to be dazzled by my charm and good looks?” 

Nametsu snorted. “I don’t want to sign my death warrant.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing” she said hastily, her eyes flickering quickly towards Kageyama and then back at his face. Oikawa leaned to the side, puzzled, and followed her glance to see Kageyama glowering furiously at one of the files he had picked up, his grip so tight it almost looked painful. Nothing unusual there.

“What do you want now, Oikawa san?” she repeated pointedly, tapping her foot.

Oikawa sighed, dropping all pretenses. “Any chance you know what Shimizu is up to?”

“You know I can’t tell you that.” Nametsu narrowed her eyes, looking suspicious.

“Why not?” Oikawa whined, fluttering his eyelashes.

She giggled.

There was a sharp crack, a very loud and clear sound of a pencil snapping in half; and both Nametsu and Oikawa turned as one to find Kageyama scowling at the ends of the broken half of the pencil in his hand.

“Be careful there, Tobio chan” Oikawa said. “That is coming out of the department budget.”

Kageyama slammed the pencil down and got up. “I will go get another one.” He said, irritation ringing loud and clear in his voice.

“I better be on my way.”

“But Nametsu San-” Oikawa tried to protest but before he could say anything more, she cleverly sidestepped around him and dashed out of the office, giving him a tiny wink. Oh well, that was a load of nothing. Oikawa really needed to brush up on his flirting skills, he thought ruefully, shaking his head. Where were the good old days when he could get any girl to tell him anything he wanted to know, by just smiling at them and greasing them up with flattery? He was getting old, he sighed. He stomped over to his desk and took his coat off, draped it on the back of the chair and sat down, muttering to himself.

“Why do you keep flirting so much?”

Oikawa’s head snapped up. Kageyama was looking down at him, his brows furrowed into that ever-present scowl. He was clearly annoyed, and Oikawa imagined he would be annoyed too if he were stuck with a boat load of paperwork for three days in a row. But that didn’t mean Oikawa would let go of any opportunity to needle him up. “Why? Are you jealous?” He smirked, putting his hands behind his head, and leaning back on the chair.

“That’s a really juvenile retort, Oikawa san” Kageyama almost sighed and something about his exasperated look made Oikawa’s heart melt. A little bit. Ok, maybe more than a little bit. Oikawa wondered how long he can carry on this charade with himself; pretending that he didn’t feel anything when clearly there was more to it than that. How long would he be able to keep it up – weeks? Months? Oikawa was no fool, he knew he felt something for Kageyama – something he couldn't quite put his finger on yet, something which made his heart speed up and his knees go weak, something that helplessly drew his eyes straight to Kageyama, even in a crowded room.

But he never intended to do anything about it; this was a line he didn’t think he had the courage to cross. It was just a phase; he had kept telling himself; it was a phase that would fade away soon enough— the intensity of his feelings would gradually go faint and disappear— It had to… before they burnt him up completely. However, with each passing day, it just kept getting worse and Oikawa didn’t know what to do with himself anymore.

Sometimes it took Oikawa all his strength to concentrate on keeping a blank face, to keep his fists clenched under the table to stop the way his fingers sometimes tingled, aching to grip Kageyama’s hair and to slowly kiss his mouth open, to slide his tongue inside – 

That was dangerous territory, and not something he wanted to think about right now.

“Don’t give me that look.” Oikawa sighed instead, shaking his head, and booting up his computer.

“What?”

“That look- that scowl on your face.” Oikawa gestured at him with his right hand. “You have that extremely scary face on all the time. People are scared to come and talk to us because you keep scowling at them.”

“I don’t scowl.” Kageyama scowled.

“You are doing it right now, Tobio chan.” Oikawa tutted, raising his eyebrow.

“Can you please stop calling me that?” Kageyama sighed, rubbing his face tiredly. Oikawa ignored that comment and briefly spent a few blissful seconds thinking about all the names he could call him instead. Cheeky bastard was getting old, he reckoned. When kageyama dropped his hand back to the side, Oikawa noticed his long fingers, realizing with sudden relief that the bandages wrapped around Kageyama’s right wrist were no longer there. Kageyama’s left arm was already out of the sling a couple of weeks ago and he was no longer using the crutch to walk or limp around anymore.

“And-” Oikawa said. “I don’t flirt with everyone. And if I do flirt, it’s only to be nice to them.”

“Oh? You were being nice to Nametsu san then?” He scowled. “For no good reason?”

“Well, I did have a reason in this case” Oikawa agreed. “But that doesn’t mean you cannot say nice things to people, to compliment them.”

Kageyama stared at him. “Why? It’s annoying! And what compliment?”

“You know- something simple and straightforward.”

“Like what?”

“Seriously Tobio chan.” Oikawa rubbed his forehead. “Something like ‘you look nice’ or something like ‘nice outfit’ or you know… why don’t you try it out on me?” Oikawa waggled his eyebrows. “Give me a compliment. Tell me I look nice or something.”

“You always look nice.” Kageyama said.

Oikawa faltered, his heart giving a sudden lurch. But Oikawa was nothing, if not a bundle of quick reflexes. He recovered smoothly. “You think I look nice?” Oikawa preened.

Kageyama nodded.

Oikawa swallowed. He looked at Kageyama, wondering if he was trying to pull his leg. Kageyama’s face looked blank as ever, but Oikawa could see. He could see there was something simmering behind those eyes. “But ‘nice’ is not a word that can be applied to you.” Kageyama continued nonchalantly, as if he had not just stirred up a hornet’s nest of unwanted emotions in Oikawa’s chest. “You are not nice. You are ruthless, cunning- almost evil I would say.”

“That is the opposite of a compliment, Tobio chan” Oikawa sighed, crossing his arms, and shaking his head quietly. “Compliments are qualities that you admire in the other person.”

“I admire those qualities in you.” Kageyama explained, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh” Oikawa said weekly. He was pretty sure he looked like a goldfish, his mouth gaping open. He tried to shut it. “I don’t know whether I should be flattered or insulted.” He muttered, at a loss for words. It must be some sort of a record, Oikawa registered fleetingly, that he, Oikawa Tooru was struck speechless by Kageyama Tobio of all people. And to think the day had only just begun. 

“Why would I insult you?” Kageyama frowned.

The desk phone rang, and Oikawa pounced on it.

“Duty calls, Tobio chan.” He said with relief, picking up the receiver quickly and covering it with his hand. Kageyama gave him a sharp nod and walked out of the room. Saved by the bell, Oikawa sighed, a slow smile spreading on his face when he saw who the call was from.

Fifteen minutes later, Oikawa found himself standing in front of the office of the Director of the Bureau of Criminal Investigations.

No matter how many times Oikawa had walked into the office, he would never be able to get used to it. At its core, it was no different than any of the other offices, maybe a tad bigger but what made it different was its occupant. If Oikawa were to describe Shimizu Kiyoko in one word, it would be ‘resolute.’ She exuded absolute authority in every movement and every look and from what Oikawa had personally experienced after working with her for so many years, she also knew how to wield that power. Iron-willed, extremely clever and a perfectionist, she strangely reminded him of Kageyama. He froze for a few seconds, blinking in surprise at that disturbing thought- but now that the notion took root, he realized how uncannily similar they were - straight forward, deadly and both capable of getting things done with just one look and as many words.

And both could drive him up the wall- albeit in different ways.

Shimizu Kiyoko was sitting at her desk, watching him as he made his way in. Her straight black hair was tied back in a ponytail and her intelligent gray blue eyes seemed to glitter at him through her glasses.

“You wanted to see me?” Oikawa asked. He had a very good idea on why he was being summoned but he was also a creature of habit; there had hardly been any good memories associated with whenever he had been in that office and that, more than anything, gave rise to the slight trepidation that he could feel gathering inside him.

And also, the fact that the Director was staring at him without saying a single word. It was nothing out of the norm but sometimes Oikawa wondered how a woman half his size could generate such anxiety in him just by peering at him with that look in her eyes. That look that she was giving him right now. He shuffled uncomfortably on his feet before Shimizu finally nodded her head towards one of the chairs in front of her desk, and Oikawa sank down on it, grateful. The Director reached out and pulled a folder from the metal tray to her left and placed it on the desk in front of him.

“I believe, this has been a long time coming.” She finally spoke, gesturing at the file between them, which was stamped with a blood red _“Top Secret”_ across it. It was a normal looking folder, nothing fancy but Oikawa’s heart sped up and he glanced at Shimizu before reaching out for it.

“The Deputy Director fought tooth and nail for it” she began. “For you. And he has good instincts, I will give him that.”

Oikawa didn’t say anything and instead flipped the file open. The first thing he noticed as his eyes skimmed through the document was how even with his high level of clearance, almost half the words on the page had been redacted. Words and phrases jumped out at him from here and there. Operation Nine hundred days. Oikawa raised an eyebrow and shut the file.

“Why don’t we start at the beginning, Director?” Oikawa sighed.

Shimizu examined his face steadily.

“I will keep this short and to the point.” She said slowly, her eyes never leaving his face. “We have a rogue agent to hunt.”

“Sakusa Kiyoomi.” Oikawa stated and if Shimizu was surprised, her face didn’t show any hint of it. Rather she gave a small nod. “Yes.”

Oikawa had expected this, was anticipating this in fact; but he still could not prevent the sting of anger that those words from the director managed to evoke in him. The whiplash at getting confirmation on his long-held suspicion left him feeling a little lightheaded and he gripped the folder in his hand tightly. “He was one of our bests – if not, the best.” Shimizu continued. “But the time has come to put an end to this nonsense.”

“We have systematically worked on isolating and dismantling his network for months now.” Shimizu leaned forward on her chair, forearms on the desk in front of her. “And we have got him cornered. But just like a wounded animal, he lashed out. And I don’t have to tell you how that went.”

Oikawa couldn’t help the slight twist of nausea at the pit of his stomach at the memories that flared up at those words. “So, the attack on Kageyama?” he asked, already knowing the answer to that.

Shimizu gave a brief nod. “Yes, that was him.” The glint in her eyes was as dark and serious as the expression on her face. “He came for one of our own.” She said, her jaws clenched and the cold fury dripping from her voice sent an involuntary shiver up his spine. “We can’t have that now, can we?”

“Why tell me all this now?” Oikawa asked, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “If this was going on for months, what do you want me to do now?”

“We wanted you in on this from the very beginning.” Shimizu sighed, taking her glasses off and pinching the bridge of her nose. “But our hands were tied. I dare say Wakatoshi went a roundabout way to try and get you involved in whatever way possible. Assigning Kageyama to you was one way of doing it.”

“Sooner or later, we expected this to blow up on our faces.” She put her glasses back on and leveled her gaze back on his face. “We have worked very hard to keep this under the radar, but I will not have a lunatic come after my men and not do anything about it.” She hissed, furious, her façade of calm cracking under the heat of her anger. She stood up, walked around her desk to come and stand next to Oikawa and leaned forward. “We are _this_ close to getting this bastard.” She growled, a low rumble from the base of her throat and Oikawa could see the reflection of his own grim face looking back at him on her glasses. “We have been working with more than a couple of other law enforcement agencies. I believe you must have already figured out Miya Atsumu’s cover and the real reason he is here.”

“I guessed.” Oikawa admitted.

“We expected you to.” Shimizu nodded. “In fact, we were counting on it.”

“You wanted me to dig around.” Oikawa took a long breath, not at all surprised. “You knew I would.”

“Yes. Like I said, we were counting on it.”

Oikawa snorted. He couldn’t help himself. “What would you have done if your little sleight of hand had worked?”

“On you?” Shimizu smiled slightly, standing up straight. “I doubt it.” 

Oikawa made an effort to bite back the anger that was slowly boiling inside him. “With all due respect, Director. I think you are grossly overestimating my abilities.”

“Am I?”

“Yes.” Oikawa gritted his teeth. “I do not have a magic wand to reveal classified materials. And you did not make it easy either. What did you expect me to do about it anyway?”

“If things had gone according to plan, we would have gotten you involved a long time back.” Shimizu regarded him seriously. “Unfortunately, it took a brazen attempt on the life of one of our own to shake up the chains of command. And this time, I am not bending over backwards to accommodate the whims of bureaucracy and politics. The price was too high to pay.” she spat, disgust and rage clouding her face.

She strode over to her chair and sat down on it, her eyes flashing. “In the meanwhile, Sakusa was selling state secrets to foreign governments. If it were not for Wakatoshi and Kageyama consistently anticipating and taking down each and every move that Sakusa made, we would have been in a whole bigger pile of mess than we are in right now.”

“The terrorist attacks a year ago?” Oikawa swallowed. “That was him, wasn’t it?”

Shimizu nodded.

“What about the attempts on the life of the Secretary of Defense?”

“That-” Shimizu sighed, and Oikawa had the distinct impression that she was preparing herself to say something out loud that she would rather not. “That was bait.”

“What?" Oikawa’s mouth fell open slowly and he blinked stupidly. Of all the answers he’d expected from Shimizu, the bombshell she had just dropped hadn’t even registered as a possibility. “Director” he said slowly, his brain still trying to process her words. “Are you sure you want to tell me about it?”

“That’s why you are here, Agent.” Shimizu said flatly.

“Let me take a wild guess then” Oikawa said carefully, various pieces of the puzzle rapidly falling into place. “They were targeting the Secretary of Defense. So-” Oikawa exhaled slowly “we decided to give them what they wanted? By using him as bait…” he trailed off, incredulous at what he was even saying.

“Positioned him in a place where they could get him, yes.” Shimizu said. “Flush them out in the open and then take them all out.”

Oikawa opened his mouth, realized that he couldn’t possibly have anything to add to that and then closed it again. So many questions were running in his head that he didn’t even know where to start from. “So,” he tried again. “We set them up and let Kageyama lose. There was no way they would have gotten out alive.”

“It was a risky move.”

Oikawa laughed hollowly. “I would say. I always wondered how they could evade the Secret Service agents to get inside the building. They were supposed to.”

Shimizu didn’t say anything.

“Ok.” Oikawa sighed, opening the file once again and placing it on the desk. “What do you want me to do?”

“Good question.” Shimizu said softly. “Let’s get down to business then, shall we?”

Something about the way Shimizu looked at him made him wish he had never asked that question. Well, it was too late for that now; it was too late the minute he found Kageyama standing in the middle of his office more than a year ago- Oikawa just didn’t know it then.

“Yes.” He agreed. “Let’s get down to business.”

* * *

_**Day 679** _

“Buy me a drink, stranger?”

Oikawa looked up to see Kageyama slide into the seat next to him, the ever-present scowl on his face. Oikawa tried not to react, and it was a very near miss; he almost smiled at the look of irritation on his partner’s face. Instead, he pretended for nonchalance, something Kageyama was very successfully exercising, despite the scowl, and if Oikawa hadn’t known him better, he would have almost believed the air of indifference around him.

“Tobio chan” Oikawa nodded casually. “Long time, no see.”

“For how long do we have to pretend?” Kageyama asked smoothly, signaling for the bartender with his hand. “I just don’t think there is a point to it anymore.”

“Protocols.” Oikawa muttered, grimacing at the word. “Hate them, like them; still have to follow them.”

“I don’t think it’s working either way” Kageyama replied, surreptitiously glancing at Oikawa from the corner of his eye. “They should know by now.”

Oikawa chuckled softly, reaching out to pick up the glass the bartender put in front of him. Ofcourse they had to know; they would have to be idiots of the highest order to not realize by now what was going on. But with people like these, greed always worked. And that was what Ushijima was banking on.

“It bothers you sometimes at how annoyingly accurate all of Wakatoshi’s predictions are?” he finally asked, twisting a little on the bar stool but still facing away. “That man is always two steps ahead of everyone else.”

“Well, he has been playing this game for far longer than any of us.” Kageyama offered and the warm slide of alcohol down Oikawa’s throat calmed his nerves a bit. “That is true.” Oikawa agreed. “He has probably imagined multiple scenarios in his head, ran hundreds of what-if simulations and has come up with thousand different contingency plans on how to tackle every single one of them.”

Kageyama huffed a soft laugh and Oikawa’s heart ached with longing. He vaguely registered that he must be pretty far gone by now if he was pining for Kageyama in the middle of a mission, with the said man sitting right next to him. Totally unacceptable. He grabbed the tumbler and dunked the rest of the drink; the strong alcohol seemed to sear through his windpipe, and he welcomed the stinging burn, anything to distract him from the gnawing in his chest and to concentrate on the job at hand.

“How many then?” Oikawa sighed.

“Seventeen.” Kageyama replied, swirling his drink in his hand.

“Only seventeen?” Oikawa pouted, putting his glass down. “I do believe they are underestimating us.”

Kageyama sat quietly, turning the glass in his hand, his eyes seemingly fixed on the liquid sloshing inside. “Yes.” He allowed, taking a tiny sip.

“So how do we do this?” Oikawa casually fixed his eyes on the long line of bottles and half empty glasses in front of him.

“We need to take them alive.”

“All seventeen of them?”

“No.” Kageyama said. “Just one will do.”

“I would hate for any of these bastards to walk away free.” Oikawa shrugged. “But it won’t hurt to go easy on them, I suppose. For Wakatoshi’s sake.”

“You can always break their legs” Kageyama suggested.

Oikawa couldn’t help the tiny snort of laughter. “I didn’t mean that literally” he shook his head, genuine affection for the blue-eyed idiot warming up his heart. _My idiot_ , he thought fondly and accidentally poked himself in the nose with his finger, when his elbow slipped from the counter at the realization of what he just admitted to himself. God, this was getting more and more pathetic by the day. “Shoot to main and not to kill.” He reiterated instead.

“I would prefer not to shoot at all.” Kageyama muttered.

“Well, looks like they didn’t get that memo.” Oikawa said, gesturing vaguely in the air. Kageyama watched silently as the bartender put more drinks in front of them and he didn’t say anything either when Oikawa gulped down more than half a glass in one breath. But that silence lasted only for a couple more seconds.

“You need to stay sober for this.”

“Where is the fun in that?”

“Oikawa san—”

“Don’t worry about me.” Oikawa winked.

“I never worry about you.”

“Ouch.” Oikawa grimaced. “That’s harsh, Tobio chan!”

“Why?” Kageyama asked bluntly. “You are the only person I never have to worry about.”

Oikawa ran that response through his head, wondering what to make of it. “I don’t know what to say to that” Oikawa finally replied, a hint of a rueful smile on his face.

“You can think about it later” Kageyama muttered, furtively sliding a half empty wine glass on the counter an inch to the middle and turning it slightly. “It looks like they are finally making a move.”

Oikawa spared a quick glance at the reflection on the glass, humming to himself. He could see people in the background hurrying towards the exit; the bar slowly and meticulously emptying out. However, there was no mistaking the intentions of the five men moving in towards them instead of towards the door and Oikawa could clearly see the glint of a knife mirrored on the smooth surface of the wine glass. 

“I feel insulted.” Oikawa whined, the corner of his mouth twitching up in a vicious smile. “Only five?” Even as the words left his mouth, two more men walked in from the side, joining the five in the middle.

“Well, beggars can’t be choosers I guess.” Oikawa sighed, draining his drink in one gulp, and slamming down the glass in the counter. Kageyama shrugged in response, barely looking up.

Oikawa swiveled the bar stool to turn and face the men coming towards them, his elbows resting on the countertop. He casually glanced around; it was hard not to notice the ominous silence in the bar now that it was empty. The lone sound of the door banging shut behind the last patron made a thrill of excitement rush through his veins. It wasn’t like Oikawa minded willingly walking into a trap occasionally, but it was hard to resist the temptation when the enemy made it so convenient for him to let loose. He turned his gaze back on the men who had stopped in front of him and his smile widened.

“Gentlemen”, Oikawa beamed. “Nice night for a bar fight, isn’t it?”

“It would hardly be a fight” the man in the middle sneered, pulling his jacket back to reveal the grip of a gun tucked into his waist. “It’s seven against two.”

“Actually” Oikawa said cheerfully. “It’s seven against one. My friend here” -he pointed towards Kageyama, who was sitting hunched over the counter with his back towards them, nursing the half empty glass in his hand- “he’s not interested in garbage like you.”

“But look at the bright side!” Oikawa continued, spreading his arms, and flashing them another brilliant smile. “At least you got one thing correct- it would hardly be a fight.” He stood up casually, his eyes flickering between the men as they fanned out to surround him and Kageyama, his smile getting wider by the second. “More like a massacre.” He concluded softly.

For a few seconds, no one spoke and in the outraged silence, he could hear the soft chink of the ice cubes clinking as Kageyama put his glass down. And that was the signal. 

Oikawa moved before anyone could react; he took two quick steps, and the switch kick caught the man to his left right on the side of his neck and jaw, the force of the kick cracking his jaw open and sending him crashing onto the wall. In the next instance, Oikawa grabbed the man to his right by the back of the neck and slammed his head down hard on the counter, smashing his face on top of the empty glass and alcohol bottles, which shattered on impact, the shards piercing through the soft tissue of the nose and mouth and lodging into his eyes. The man toppled over like a ragdoll.

It must have taken about five seconds in total to take those two men out, five seconds during which the rest of the men were too stunned to register what was happening, slowing down their reaction time. It was enough time for Oikawa to slide into a side kick, the heel of his boot connecting with the chest of the man in the middle, sending him crashing on his back. Oikawa had his gun out in his hand and was already shooting, three shots one after the other, hitting the guy on the floor on his forearm and shin, the third bullet shattering the kneecap. The remaining four men had started shooting by then, and Oikawa quickly dropped down and rolled onto the side, scrambled onto his feet, and ran towards the bar counter. The bullets were flying everywhere, shredding through the tables and chairs, ripping foam out of the cheap plastic covering of the seats on the booths, shattering the windowpanes and light fixtures.

Oikawa took a flying lunge and with his left hand on the counter to balance himself, he leapt over the countertop, squeezing out two quick shots and watching the bullets rip through the throat of one of the men, who fell over with a horrible gurgling sound, clutching at his neck. He landed on his feet and crouched down to take cover, a shower of broken glass and spilled alcohol falling all around him.

“You are having too much fun.” Kageyama stated and Oikawa turned his head to find himself face to face with Kageyama, who had also ducked down behind the counter, a bored expression on his face. Oikawa laughed; he couldn’t help himself and for a brief moment, Kageyama’s eyes glittered with amusement as well. “Stop messing around, Oikawa san.”

“You know me too well.” Oikawa snorted and shaking his head in resignation, he quickly stood up, his gun gripped in both hands and with a wink at Kageyama, pulled the trigger; three head shots in rapid succession; taking out the remaining three men in the blink of an eye, blood splattering everywhere.

The sudden ringing silence was oddly satisfying, and he dropped his arms to his side, the gun still clutched in his hand. Kageyama slowly stood up, coming over to stand by Oikawa’s side. “Much better.” He nodded. “But we do want them alive, remember.”

“Yeah, I know.” Oikawa sighed, dropping the gun on the table. “We still have ten more left.”

Kageyama frowned. “They are going with the indirect approach. Having a small team attack us and then have the larger team strike the flank, hoping to take us by surprise.”

“Where is the larger team then?” Oikawa asked.

“You took them by surprise.”

Oikawa harrumphed, looking affronted. “Isn’t the idea to charge in simultaneously?” Oikawa asked, crouching down behind the counter, and pulling out a black duffle bag. He placed it on the countertop and unzipped it to reveal a stack of weapons and ammunitions.

Kageyama looked around the bar, surveying the damage. “I don’t think they expected this-” he swept his hand – “to get over in a minute.”

He tossed an assault rifle to Kageyama and picked one up himself, checking to make sure it was loaded. “We don’t have much time then. I would say 30 seconds at max.”

“Try not to play around too much” Kageyama said.

“Yeah, yeah. I will take this seriously.” Oikawa huffed, watching Kageyama stride across the room. “Spoilsport” He added under his breath.

“I heard that.”

Oikawa chuckled, his heart warm with affection for the cheeky bastard. He got into position, realizing with a twist of his heart that he was in too deep if he was willing to condemn himself to deal with that attitude for the rest of his life.

* * *

_**Day 699** _

Oikawa had not seen Kageyama for the past few days.

And with everything that was going on, it was getting harder and harder for him to catch a break or even stop by at his office to talk to his partner. It was one debriefing session after another, one meeting after another and by the time Oikawa could get out, Kageyama would already be gone for the day.

“I am still surprised he had been so quiet you know.” Oikawa said to Iwaizumi, walking out of the office building after another long tiring day. “It’s almost like he is up to something.”

“And why would you think so?” Iwaizumi asked, nodding to one of the security guards as he opened the door to the underground garage.

“It’s what I would do.” Oikawa shrugged. “I mean- I won’t be sitting quietly for sure.”

“Well, it’s not like he could do anything with those injuries.” Iwaizumi pointed out. “Even if he wanted to. So, it made sense for him to stay put.”

“To plan out something and wait for his time to strike.” Oikawa completed that thought.

“Yeah.” Iwaizumi pulled his car keys out. “He is finally back on his feet; I would be surprised now if he doesn’t try to do anything.”

Oikawa wondered if that was something he should be worried about. “Iwa chan, this is Kageyama we are talking about. He’s not going to do anything reckless.”

“I never said he will.” Iwaizumi sighed. “It is a good sign he is back to normal now isn’t it? And if the rumors are to be believed, didn’t he single highhandedly take out an entire platoon recently?” Iwaizumi waggled his eyebrows, a wide smile on his face.

“Whoever is spreading such rumors, they need to be fed to the Loch Ness Monster.” Oikawa huffed. “An entire platoon? What next? An entire battalion?”

Iwaizumi chuckled.

“Anyway” Oikawa continued. “I was planning to watch the qualification matches for the world volleyball championships tonight” he beamed. “Want to come over and watch together? I was going to get takeout too.”

Iwaizumi shook his head. “Next time Trashykawa. Tell me all about it tomorrow morning.”

Oikawa pouted but allowed Iwaizumi to smack him lightly on the head, before heading towards his car. He was looking forward to stuffing himself with greasy spicy unhealthy food and passing out on the sofa. By the time he reached his apartment complex, it was close to 8 pm. He took the elevator to his floor, checking his watch to see if he could maybe call Matsukawa over to watch the matches together.

He stepped out on his floor, turned the corner, and then stopped short.

Kageyama was leaning back against his door, waiting for him. Oikawa faltered, and stopped. What was Kageyama doing here? How long had he been waiting? He blinked, registering the laid-back attitude and the effortless way in which he appeared so naturally striking, doing nothing but just standing there, looking bored and just like that Oikawa’s heart was racing again. He exhaled, smiling ruefully to himself. He took a step forward and Kageyama turned his head, saw Oikawa approach and he pushed himself off the door to stand up straight.

“Tobio chan” he drawled, walking over towards him, pulling out the apartment keys from his pocket.

Kageyama gave a small smile. He shuffled to the side as Oikawa drew closer to the door. He stopped in front of Kageyama, watching his face carefully for any signs that might tell Oikawa why he was standing outside his door. He could see nothing, but he knew instinctively that something was not right; he could feel it, that small feeling of dread pooling at the pit of his stomach as he tried to read those brilliantly intense blue eyes staring back at him.

“Did something happen?” Oikawa asked, trying, and failing to keep the small tinge of worry out of his voice.

Kageyama shook his head. “I just wanted to talk.”

Oikawa watched him for a few more seconds and then nodded. Whatever Kageyama wanted to talk about, it had to be important enough for him to go out of his way to stop by his apartment and not wait till the morning. But then, with their busy schedules, they had hardly been able to meet in the office anyway. With a shrug, Oikawa turned to unlock the door and he pushed it open; Kageyama followed him inside, closing the door behind himself.

“Make yourself at home” Oikawa said, taking his shoes off and tossing the keys on the table in the living room. He strode over to the kitchen, the plastic bag with the takeout boxes rustling when he placed it on the counter. “I got takeout for dinner. We can eat later; I think it should be enough for two.” He took the boxes out and put them on the dining table, pulling out plates and glasses from the kitchen cabinets. “I hope you like spicy food.”

Kageyama walked into the living room in his socks, having taken his shoes off by the entryway. “I am sorry for dropping by unannounced” he said apologetically, sitting down on the sofa that Oikawa gestured to with his hand. “You had already left by the time I got back.”

Oikawa dismissed his apology with a shrug and handed him a glass of water. “Don’t worry about it” he said, sitting down on the couch opposite him. “And I am sorry I don’t have any boxed milk or yogurt drinks to offer you.” Kageyama shot him a quick glance and Oikawa winked.

“What did you want to talk about?” For some reason, he felt nervous as he watched Kageyama, a feeling very similar to anxiety gnawing at his chest. Also having Kageyama alone in his apartment, in his living room, sitting on his sofa looking so stupidly handsome- it was doing strange things to him. It was making Oikawa think about wanting to climb on top of him, pin him on the sofa, suck his throat and swallow every moan that escaped from Kageyama’s mouth.

“The truth.” Kageyama said, draining his glass and putting it on the side table.

_I think I want you._ Oikawa thought. _How is that for the truth?_

“I am all for the truth” he nodded sagely. “What truths are we talking about?”

“Are you not angry?” Kageyama asked carefully.

That took Oikawa by surprise. “Why should I be?”

“I kept you in the dark” Kageyama frowned.

“Not willingly.” Oikawa pointed out. “You had no choice.”

Kageyama held his gaze, blinking slowly, searching his face for something- Oikawa felt a mild tug of alarm and he had no idea why. He tried to school his face to hide the tiny stab of anxiety that was still nagging at the back of his mind. Kageyama studied him for a few more seconds, seemed to have found whatever he was looking for in Oikawa’s face, and just like that, Kageyama deflated completely, his shoulders slumping back. He sank on the sofa, throwing his head back and squeezed his eyes shut, digging his knuckles into them. “I didn’t know what to do.” He exhaled, swallowing hard. “My hands were tied, and I hated it.”

Oikawa had no idea how to react. It must have been hard for Kageyama to keep things from him, but he never really thought about the strain that it must have put him under. He stood up and took the empty glass from the table.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” Oikawa said, walking into the kitchen and opening the door of the refrigerator. “This was classified information and you were on a top-secret case; I see no reason why you should apologize for not telling me.”

“I know you hate me” Kageyama opened his eyes and sat up straight when Oikawa handed him a can of cold coffee. “You have always hated me, from the time we first met. And even after knowing that, I didn’t do anything when the Deputy Director asked me to team up with you.”

“It’s not like you could have said no” Oikawa leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms across his chest. “And yes, you are right. I did hate you. I used to absolutely loathe you.” Kageyama looked impassive as ever but Oikawa could feel the small flush of hurt and disappointment that Kageyama was so perfectly concealing behind that façade of indifference and for some reason, it made Oikawa’s heart ache. And suddenly, Oikawa was really glad that Iwaizumi was not there to hear him say the next few words.

“I don’t hate you anymore.”

“You don’t?” sharp blue eyes snapped to his face, pinning him down and Oikawa wondered if he would ever be able to breath normally again.

“I am an open book Tobio chan.” Oikawa tried to sound smug, but it came out more like a hollow attempt to retain his sanity. “Don’t pretend as if you can’t tell when I am lying. I know you can read me as well as I can read you.” 

“Can you?” Kageyama asked softly.

“Can’t you?” Oikawa retorted, his voice sounding funny to his own ears.

Oikawa was quickly losing track of the conversation, the blood rushing to his head was making it difficult for him to concentrate on anything- he was not even sure what they were talking about anymore or what the heck was even going on. He watched cautiously as Kageyama placed the can of coffee on the floor, got up from the sofa and walked up to him, stopping just an arm’s length away.

“I am good at reading people” Kageyama admitted and Oikawa found himself looking up into stormy blue eyes, “But with you… I fear being wrong.”

“Tobio chan…” Oikawa was pretty sure he was on the verge of having a stroke, his heart fluttering madly at the sudden proximity.

“Oikawa Tooru” Kageyama whispered, taking a step forward and leaning in, his hands on either side of Oikwa’s head; and suddenly, Oikawa was very very afraid. He was spiraling out of control, hurtling down to his doom at breakneck speed and there was nothing he could do to save himself. “Can you please stop calling me Tobio chan already?” 

“Oh?” Oikawa managed to choke out, faintly surprised that he could still speak with his heart lodged in his throat. “What do you want me to call you instead?”

“Tobio” Kageyama’s voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “Just like no one else” he breathed.

A tremor ran through Oikawa’s body. He could see the desire, the _want,_ the desperate need in those blue eyes and he couldn’t look away - Something was roaring inside Oikawa’s head, a faraway sound which was getting louder and louder. He wanted to – he wanted to – he wanted to burn, to throw himself headfirst over the cliff, to fall- to fall. Heat was spreading through his body, flooding him to the tips of his toes. He wanted to kiss him, he wanted Kageyama to kiss him back, to plunder his mouth, to make him lose control.

And just when he thought he was going to go insane, Kageyama stepped back abruptly, breaking eye contact. It was as if someone had instantly leeched all the warmth from Oikawa’s body and dunked him under ice cold water. Oikawa gasped, and Kageyama ran a shaky hand through his hair, breathing harshly. He was looking at Oikawa and the expression on his face was something that Oikawa had never seen before.

“Thank you” Kageyama finally said, breaking the silence. His voice trembled slightly, and he gave a small smile at the stunned look on Oikawa's face. “For everything. For tolerating me, for caring- for saving my life.” Oikawa was having a hard time getting enough air in his lungs and he watched silently as Kageyama turned away from him, walked towards the door, put his shoes back on and opened the door. He paused for a few seconds, hesitated, his hand still on the doorknob.

“It was fun working with you, Tooru.”

And with those words, Kageyama purposefully stepped out and closed the door shut behind him.

* * *

_**Day 700** _

“What the hell happened to you?”

Oikawa looked up to find Iwaizumi gaping at him, horrified. He reached out and grabbed Oikawa by the shoulders and forcefully turned him around to face him. “Tooru” he scanned over his face, taking in the dark circles, the messy hair, and the slight pallor of his skin. “You have this maniacal gleam in your eyes. You didn’t sleep last night, did you?”

Oikawa gave a sheepish smile. “I kind of got carried away, watching the matches.”

“If you are lying to me, it must be something bad.” Iwaizumi frowned. 

Oikawa chuckled softly, shaking his head. He should know better by now than to try and lie to Iwaizumi. Truth be told, he hadn’t expected to run into anybody in the lobby so early in the morning and honestly, Oikawa was hardly in any state of mind to think about his appearance right now. “It’s related to one of the cases I am working on, Iwa chan. You know I can’t tell you anything about that.”

That at least was the truth. Kageyama, that blithering idiot- He had casually walked into his apartment and then proceeded to rip his world apart by just asking Oikawa to call him Tobio- _just like no one else_. Oikawa was not stupid; he knew what that meant. If there was ever any doubt about his feelings towards Oikawa, Kageyama had made sure to incinerate them with those eyes that had pinned Oikawa against the wall last night. It had taken Oikawa a full ten minutes to recover after Kageyama had left and once he could get his brain to start working again, it didn’t take him long to figure out what exactly was going on.

He had spent the night pacing the floor of his living room, trying to decide what to do next. At first, he tried calling Kageyama on his cell phone but as expected, it was turned off. He also considered for a moment about asking Tsukishima to try and trace his location, but he knew that would open a whole new can of worms, and he really wasn’t in any position to drag Tsukishima into the middle of an ongoing investigation, not to mention a top secret one at that. The next option was to call the Deputy Director, but he had a niggling suspicion that Wakatoshi already knew- that evil conniving brainiac, he had to know. And for all Oikawa could gather, Wakatoshi might have already anticipated this situation to play out exactly the way it did. And that suspicion was finally confirmed when Oikawa received a call from the deputy director’s office at 6 in the morning, asking him to show up for an emergency meeting as soon as possible.

He was just walking in the lobby after clearing security, his thoughts strained and his emotions roiling all over the place, when he ran straight into Iwaizumi. Literally. 

“Alright” Iwaizumi reluctantly let go of his shoulders and stepped back.

“You worry too much Iwa chan” Oikawa winked. “You are turning into my mom.”

Iwaizumi slapped him on the back of his head.

Three hours later, Oikawa was sitting in his office, staring blankly at the empty desk across the room. Not for the first time since he got out of the meeting with the Deputy Director, Oikawa found himself wishing that Iwaizumi had hit him a bit harder, hard enough to scramble his brains so he that he could at least stop thinking for one fucking second. 

“You knew this would happen” Oikawa had accused him as soon as he had stepped into Ushijima’s office. Ushijima looked up from the files he had spread out across the desk before him. It didn’t seem like Ushijima had left the building since last night if the pinched shallow face and the crumpled shirt was anything to go by. He flipped the files closed and pushed them aside, walking around his desk to come and stand in front of Oikawa.

“This was a likely scenario yes.” Ushijima had sighed. “Though I was hoping it wouldn’t have to come to this.”

Oikawa slunk lower on his chair now, threw his head back and flung an arm across his eyes, struggling to keep his emotions in check. Kageyama’s empty chair was mocking him and it made his stomach churn. To think that- Sakusa Kiyoomi- that bastard – that Kageyama would throw everything away- everything-

Oikawa let out a frustrated snarl, the deputy director’s words ringing in his head.

“We can’t lose him.” Ushijima had growled. “We can keep a lid on this for a week, maybe two weeks. We have until then to get him back. Or at least get in touch with him.”

“If we can’t?”

The look on Ushijima’s face was enough to tell him what would happen if they can’t.

Oikawa stood up from his chair and walked over to Kageyama’s desk. All his files had been neatly stacked on one side, an empty volleyball keychain hung by the stationary holder and a couple of post it notes were stuck to the monitor. Oikawa peered closer and frowned: “call Hinata boke” was written on one of them, in Kageyama’s chicken scratch with a doodle of a head with pointy teeth and orange hair next to it. It looked very similar to the drawing of the sun that his nephew Takeru had once given to him when he was two years old and had just found a new fascination with color crayons. Oikawa shook his head, an amused smile on his face; maybe he should introduce Kageyama to Takeru one of these days.

He ignored the way his heart squeezed painfully in his chest at that thought, refused to think that he might never have that opportunity, that Kageyama might have just walked out of his life forever and the fleeting memories of last night- the scorching desire that had flared between them, where he had come so close to begging Kageyama to kiss him- that feeling would be all he would have to remember him by.

“Why would he do this?” Oikawa had asked, resentment and bitterness clawing with the anger inside him. A part of him already knew the answer; knew the answer because he would have done the exact same thing. “He just got up and left. He was just waiting to go after Sakusa- willing to put everything at risk. For what?”

“They have... a history.” Ushijima had shaken his head.

Oikawa sat down on Kageyama’s chair and reclined it back. He lifted both his feet on the desk, crossed them at the ankles and resting his elbows on the armrest, clasped his hands and placed his chin on top. All this time that Kageyama was scowling through his files, he had been waiting- waiting and planning his next move. He was not reckless; Oikawa would have to give him that- and it was commendable that he could wait patiently for so long to get everything in order before making his move. But at what cost? He was risking everything- his life, his career and for what?

Sakusa and him had been a team for a very long time and Oikawa could easily see how his betrayal would have hit Kageyama hard. And because Kageyama was such a goody two shoes, he had suppressed all his personal feelings and had diligently gone about executing Ushijima’s directives on foiling Sakusa’s plans with the goal of ultimately capturing him and bringing him to justice. It was official business and Kageyama was playing by the rules.

But once Sakusa tried to kill him- trained and sent those assassins to take him down- that’s when it became personal. It was no longer official business; he was coming after Kageyama specifically and there was no way in hell Kageyama would have taken that lying down.

“You saw this coming.” Oikawa nodded at Ushijima. “It’s glaringly obvious. That’s why you wanted me on this case.”

Ushijima looked mildly impressed. “I can never hide anything from you, can I?”

“Oh, you can, and you have” Oikawa rubbed his tired eyes, sitting down on one of the chairs. “But I am here now. So, tell me what you want me to do?”

“We need to capture Sakusa alive.” It looked as if it pained Ushijima to admit it, but he went on. “And now Kageyama has taken off on his own, completely off the grid- no doubt to take Sakusa down, his way- outside the law.”

“With all due respect, Sakusa deserves what he is about to get.” Oikawa gritted his teeth. “If it was me, I would let Kageyama get on with it and just shoot that bastard dead.”

“That’s not the problem here and you know it.” Ushijima looked at him sharply. “We cannot let Kageyama act outside the ground rules of the mission and disobey direct orders. This is not just a routine case; this is a top-secret mission that we have been working on for close to two years now. Everyone’s eyes are on it! There are plans in place, rules, protocols that we must follow. He would face federal charges; his career will be over, and I don’t have to tell you that the consequences will be severe.”

“I am sure he knows the risks.” Oikawa scowled. “He took all that into consideration when he decided to leave.” _Leave me_ \- he added to himself, trying to disregard the hurt that stabbed through his chest.

“I don’t know what he is thinking. And that’s all the more reason why we have to get to him as soon as possible before he does something.” Ushijima looked him squarely in the eyes. “Let me make this as clear as possible Agent Oikawa – I want you to track Kageyama down and get to him before he has a chance to kill Sakusa.”

“And how do you expect me to do that?”

“You will figure something out.”

Oikawa’s eyes now fell on the photo frame next to the keyboard and he brought his feet down from Kageyama’s desk and scooched forward to pick it up. It looked like a picture from the high school reunion that Kageyama had attended almost ten months ago. There was Tsukishima, who towered over everyone, looking smug as ever. Kageyama was in the middle and to his left was a short blond girl who was holding hands with an orange haired man. The man was grinning like a lunatic and Oikawa had a very strong suspicion that this must be “Hinata boke”- it was disturbing how uncannily accurate that doodle had been. To Kageyama’s right was another tall man with a smattering of freckles across his nose, his black hair shining under the lights, and he was smiling serenely, his hand on Kageyama’s shoulder.

But Oikawa’s eyes were drawn to the man in the middle- the same blue eyes, the same scowl, the same look of challenge on his face that he had seen every single day for the past two years. And suddenly, Oikawa found himself grinning.

Since when has things with Kageyama ever been easy? If this is how he wants to play the game- well bring it on! 

“I accept your challenge Tobio.” he whispered, a thrill of excitement running down his spine. “I am going to chase you down to the depths of hell.” He put the photo frame down and got up on his feet. “Run all you want, you cheeky bastard.” Oikawa's jaw was hard, his eyes glinting with determination. “But once I catch you, you will wish you had never tried to leave me.”

* * *


	6. You better start running...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the hardest chapter for me to write.. I hope it came out ok. FYI: Updated tags again

* * *

_ **Day 701** _

“For the last time, Agent Oikawa, I cannot let you enter without an authorized permission slip from the Director.”

Oikawa’s smile through clenched jaw felt more like a grimace than a proper smile but he couldn’t really help it; the raised eyebrow from the man behind the counter was smug in a way that reminded him so strongly of Tsukishima’s trademark sneers that it was almost an instinctive reaction at that point.

“And for the last time” – Oikawa tilted his head to the side to read the name tag off the shoulder of the man’s uniform- “Yamamoto san, I assure you that I have the required security clearance to access the evidence lockers whenever I want.”

“I am afraid that is not good enough.” Yamamoto sounded a bit hesitant, his voice wavering with just a hint of indecision. Oikawa kept the smile plastered onto his face, trying to decide what to do next. A slow throbbing headache had taken up residence behind his temples for the past half an hour and having to deal with a new security guard was just making it worse.

“Look Yamamoto san” Oikawa attempted to maintain a pleasant tone of voice. “I know you are new here. When did you join again? Last week?”

“Three days back.” Yamamoto corrected him.

“Three days, right.” Oikawa nodded kindly. “And I know you are only trying to do your job. And I really appreciate it, I do.” For the second time, a flicker of uncertainty flashed through the guard’s face and Oikawa immediately honed in on to it. “It is a difficult job, trying to make sure the right people have the right access- the things in the evidence lockers can make or break a case after all.”

“And I also know that you must have been one of the best candidates out there for this job- you wouldn’t be here otherwise.” Oikawa continued, watching the way the guard’s shoulder relaxed just a tiny bit at those words. “That makes me think you are a very reasonable man as well.”

Yamamoto observed Oikawa’s face for a few seconds and Oikawa held his breath.

“Alright, fine.” Yamamoto got up from his chair and walked around it, gesturing for Oikawa to follow him. _See, I can be nice Tobio_ \- Oikawa thought as he accompanied the guard to the first door and pressed his right hand onto the scanner. It glowed green and Oikawa could hear the distinct sound of a lever clicking in place.

“Guess you do have the required clearance.” Yamamoto muttered sheepishly.

“Yeah, I do.” Oikawa stood still, lining up for the retinal scan and immediately, the door unlocked and swung open a few inches.

“Err… I am-” Yamamoto fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable.

“Don’t worry about it” Oikawa grasped the door handle. “You were only doing your job.”

Once inside, Oikawa blinked a few times and waited for his eyesight to adjust to the glare of the fluorescent lights that bathed the room in a brightness that almost hurt his eyes. The whitewashed walls of the room had always reminded Oikawa strongly of sterilized hospital corridors and for a few seconds, he almost half expected the smell of disinfectants to assault his senses. There were rows upon rows of lockers built into the walls, with numbers on them next to a small fingerprint scanner each, in place of where traditionally a keyhole should have been. 

Oikawa strode forward to a locker at the end of the room and pressed his thumb onto the scanner. The locker slid open soundlessly and Oikawa stared at the contents- there it was, the gun that had slipped out of Izumi Yukitaka’s hands, all those months ago when he had cornered him at the alley behind the bar and had set Kageyama lose on him.

He shook his head at the memory, a small smile forming at the corners of his mouth— the look on Kageyama’s face flashed through his mind, where he was trying so hard not to laugh at Izumi’s confession of cheating at poker. Hard to believe so many things had happened in that short span of time since then and now here he was, standing alone in front of the locker as he donned on a pair of latex gloves and reached inside to pick up the revolver and the bullets that he had himself removed from the cylinder of that derelict gun. 

He carried the gun over to the table in the corner of the room and placed it on the clean stainless-steel tabletop, sat down on the chair and leaned forward, staring at it.

It was an ordinary looking revolver, a .38 caliber- nothing fancy, just another relic of the war. But there was something about it that had been nagging him since the first time he had ran his fingers across the barrel of the revolver that night in the alley. He couldn’t quite figure out what it was, but it had his instincts nudging at him to take another look at it.

And Oikawa always trusted his instincts. He lifted the revolver up to look at the bottom of the frame, to check for the gun serial number and was not really surprised to find nothing there.

Carefully, he pressed the thumb release on the side, tilting the empty cylinder out. He then removed the sides of the pistol grip and went about disassembling the revolver- pulling out the cylinder yoke, sliding the rebound slide out and completely pulling the hammer free of the revolver. He set the screwdriver aside and picked each part up deftly in his hands, squinting to examine it thoroughly, his face frowning in concentration. He checked the inside of the frame, the yolk area but there was no trace of any serial number or any form of microstamping. Even examining it with the magnifying glass yielded nothing.

Oikawa scowled, crossing his arms, his foot tapping restlessly on the floor, his eyes fixed on the disassembled pieces of the revolver. His mind already racing. Unregistered, unlicensed, illegal ghost weapon – what are the chances that Izumi had carried it with him, a man that they had to interrogate as part of the M.A.L.A.R.K.E.Y ‘play nice’ initiative?

On a hunch, Oikawa pulled up the logs for the locker access and sure enough, there was Kageyama’s name on the computer screen, with a timestamp next to it showing that Kageyama had gone through the contents of the same evidence locker forty-three days prior.

Coincidence?

He did not think so.

* * *

_ **Day 711** _

When it had finally happened, Oikawa was pretty sure someone must have drugged him. With something potent enough to melt his brains; had to be at least Industrial strength level, the gorilla glue of drugs- to have had that effect on him. 

There was no other possible explanation for it otherwise- to the fact that he, Oikawa Tooru, _Agent extraordinaire,_ had agreed to work together with Miya _fucking_ Atsumu. He had gritted his teeth, grasped Miya’s hand in a bruising handshake, his grip probably a little bit tighter than what was socially and morally acceptable, but Miya had just sneered at him, and gripped his hand back harder.

“Can you both at least pretend that you are not trying to crush each other’s hands?” Ushijima had clicked his tongue admonishingly, giving them both a deprecatory stare. “I don’t want to have to explain to Director Shimizu how two of my agents ended up in the hospital with broken bones.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Deputy Director”, Miya had smirked. Oikawa could swear he could hear the bones on Miya’s hand creaking in protest under the intense pressure Oikawa was applying but Miya barely even flinched. That bastard! “I think Oikawa and I will make quite a great team.”

“Please don’t let your unbridled ecstasy go to your head.” Oikawa leered at him, his hand going numb with pain. “I know how much of a blessing it is to get to work with someone as amazing as I am.” Oikawa was trying hard to not gasp in pain or let the tears of agony cloud his vision. “But let me remind you that this is just a temporary arrangement.”

“I will try to contain my joy.” Miya curled his lip in disdain.

That was three days ago and here he was now, perched on top of a roof in a downtown building, still basking in the fact that Miya was the one who had eventually jerked his hand away, wincing in pain. Oikawa had exhaled in relief and tried to discreetly wipe the tears of pain stinging the corner of his eyes, but it wasn’t like he could hide anything from Ushijima’s prying eyes.

Ushijima had just raised his eyebrow at him, his expression clearly asking _“Really?”_

The things he had to do for Tobio, Oikawa shook his head, disgruntled. He was so going to make Kageyama pay for this- this ignominy of making Oikawa work with that blond despicable wastrel! Oikawa huffed, his breath coming out in a small puff of smoke in the cold night air and he pulled out the binoculars again.

“Are you sure about this?”

Oikawa made a noncommittal sound from the base of his throat, focusing instead on the scene unfolding in front of him. Or at least the scene that he was hoping would unfold in front of him. So far, it had been pretty uneventful – Oikawa had watched one expensive car after another pulling up and stopping in front of the grand staircase that led up to the glitzy auditorium. Men in sharp suits and women decked in expensive jewelries were being escorted inside, the red carpet stretching all the way from the bottom of the steps to the huge ornate doors that opened to the chandelier encrusted entryway. 

“Oikawa?” That annoying voice in the earpiece spoke up again. “Are you sure about this?”

“Dammit Miya!” Oikawa exclaimed, setting his binoculars aside and softly banging his head against the parapet in frustration. “Yes, I am sure about this. Quit asking the same thing over and over again!”

Miya harrumphed in his ear and Oikawa was in half a mind to take the earpiece off and stomp on it. He imagined a few seconds stomping on Miya’s face instead and that thought oddly calmed him down. He exhaled slowly and squinted through the binoculars again, watching the valet service attending to the long line of limousines.

“How far away are you?” Oikawa asked and even though he was whispering, his voice sounded loud in the stillness of the night and the empty rooftop seemed to echo his words back at him.

“Another five minutes, if I don’t get stuck in traffic.”

Oikawa nodded absentmindedly. It wasn’t like Miya could see him because Oikawa was currently lying on his stomach, on the rooftop across the street, his eyes glued to the binoculars pointed at the cars and the people alighting from them in front of the building. It was the opening night premiere of the new musical that Oikawa had absolutely no interest in but according to intelligence sources, this was also the venue where Mikako Hoshino was supposed to be in attendance. Oikawa had long suspected her of being a sleeper agent and it was no freak accident that her name had popped up in the guest list for the after-party event; the same event hosted by the liaison to the Department of Foreign Affairs.

“I am here” Miya’s voice crackled a bit with static and Oikawa readjusted the earpiece.

A sleek black sedan had just turned the corner and was slowing down behind the other cars. Oikawa sat up straight, hidden behind the shadows cast by a huge billboard and he turned his binoculars to spot Miya Atsumu on the driver’s seat. “I see you” Oikawa said. “Should have gotten yourself a chauffeur.”

“Well, since I am not Tobio kun, I figured you wouldn’t be interested.” That mocking smile on Miya’s face was so wide that Oikawa could see his teeth glittering even without the binoculars.

“Stop preening around like a stupid peacock” Oikawa sighed, barely able to contain the desire to strangle Miya with his bare hands and squeeze hard till that idiotic face turned blue. “You will blow your cover just by showing your teeth around so much.” 

That shut him up. Oikawa watched, pleased with the scowl that now graced Miya’s face.

“I can’t believe I have to work with you.” Miya mumbled, turning the car towards the curb, and slowing down to a halt. “I want Tobio kun back.”

A sudden pang of longing made Oikawa’s breath stutter for a second.

“You and I both.” Oikawa cleared his throat. “That’s why we are here, remember?”

One of the valets had stepped forward and reached out to open the driver’s side door. Oikawa watched Miya exit the car smoothly, adjusting his cufflinks and give a small nod to the valet. He handed over the keys and walked up the staircase. Even though Oikawa couldn’t see his face, he could clearly picture the smug expression as he reached the doors.

“The key is to blend in.” Oikawa advised. “Act like you belong here.”

“I do belong here actually.” Miya said just as he entered the building and disappeared completely from Oikawa’s view. “Family connections.”

“Yeah yeah” Oikawa mumbled, rubbing his forehead. “And that’s exactly why you are in the party as a guest and not up here on the roof.”

“Well, this is your plan so don’t blame me.”

Oikawa didn’t have any time to respond to that because just then, the occupants of the next car alighted, and Oikawa gripped the binoculars tighter in his hands. “Hoshino is here.” He said, following her with the binoculars as she started walking up the staircase in her impossibly tall stiletto heels. He could hear Miya’s resigned sigh in his earpiece even through the noise of the traffic that was coming up in snatches from the streets below him and Oikawa couldn’t help the sadistic glee that enveloped him at the obvious irritation in Miya’s voice.

“If you blow this up, I am going to do a lot more than just blame you.” Oikawa dismantled the binoculars and stowed them inside his backpack. “You will have to invest in a new set of teeth for starters.”

“Did anyone ever tell you that you are hilarious?” Miya scoffed in his earpiece.

Oikawa didn’t bother to dignify that with a response. Rather, he rummaged inside the backpack and pulled out a long coil of heavy cable rope with a grappling hook attached at the end and walked over to the other end of the rooftop. The building he was really interested in was not the auditorium, but the tall dark looming concrete structure that dominated the downtown skyline- the corporate headquarters of Johzenji Enterprises. 

The claw shaped projectile shot out with a soft whoosh from the handheld grapple gun and clanged on to the roof of the Johzenji building across. Oikawa pulled it once to make sure it was tightly fixed and then he clipped his end of the cable firmly onto the concrete antenna base behind him. “Alright” Oikawa climbed on top of the ledge, the wind whistling past his ears. “I am going in. And Miya, stick to the plan.”

Five minutes later, he was racing down the roof access stairs of the Johzenji building, peeling off the leather gloves and the black outer jacket he was wearing and stashed them away hurriedly into the backpack. Underneath, he had donned on the uniform of the security service that worked for Johzenji, with a fake name tag pinned on to his shoulder- fake but if anyone were to run any security checks on it, he would still show up as a registered guard with the company. Oikawa glanced down at himself, taking in the ugly mud brown color of the uniform with the garish side pockets and fleetingly wondered if he should maybe reconsider what Miya had asked him before — _Are you sure about this?_

“Oikawa, you dead?” Miya’s hopeful voice snapped him out of his funk instantly.

“I am inside the building.” Oikawa scowled, stopping on the landing that had a large number ‘fifty-three’ painted on the wall, next to the door. The fifty third floor- the floor where Hoshino’s office was located. He had spent the better part of the day working on getting the security cameras disabled on that floor and now he had exactly fifteen minutes to get in, transfer the files and get out. He pulled out a pair of glasses and put them on before swiping the access badge and pushing the door open.

“What makes you think Hoshino is going to act today, after lying dormant for so long?” Miya asked.

Oikawa stepped inside a dimly lit corridor, the carpeted floor beneath his feet swallowing any sounds his shoes made. He paused for a moment to take in his surroundings and then tapped the hinges of the glasses on his nose, activating them. Immediately, a layout of the floor appeared in front of him, names and labels updating and adjusting as he looked around. “You sure love asking the same questions over and over again, don’t you?”

“Well, why don’t you indulge me?” Oikawa could hear the faint strains of a violin coming in from the earpiece and the faded bustle of conversation around Miya. Oikawa adjusted the stiff collar of his white cotton shirt and stared walking down the office corridor, following the layout his glasses were showing, leading him towards Hoshino’s office. The truth was, Oikawa was not exactly sure if the sleeper agent was planning on making any move tonight but everything that he had found out so far, had pointed to the after-party event to be the perfect place for her to pass off crucial information to her contact. And Oikawa was willing to bet it would be a brush contact- a moment’s jostle between two people, lasting for merely a second but enough to exchange whatever package they had- and then move on.

“Blink and you will miss it.” Oikawa reaffirmed, turning left down the hallway. He slowed down and glanced around quickly to make sure no one was around but the thermal sensors remained blank, no heat signature showing up on his glasses. “And that’s why I want you to be there. To keep an eye on her and retrieve the package.” Oikawa continued, walking past a vertical garden that opened into an atrium.

“You definitely picked the best man for the job.” Miya said smugly. “I will soon have her eating out of my hands.”

For a quick disturbing second, a vivid image of Miya strutting around the party, his chest puffed out with pride and that vapid smile plastered on his face, flashed through Oikawa’s mind. “It’s not like I had any other options.” Oikawa shuddered, shaking his head to get rid of that mental picture. “Stupid M.A.L.A.R.K.E.Y.”

“Yeah, yeah” Miya huffed dismissively. “Have some faith Oikawa.”

Oikawa grimaced at the tone, his anger flaring up a bit, but he held his tongue. _Breathe- remember who you are doing this for_ \- he growled to himself. Soon he was standing in front of Hoshino’s office and he took another quick glance around to make sure the place was empty. Satisfied, he opened the door ajar and slipped inside the room, carefully locking the door behind him. The room was dark, faintly lit by the light from the hallway that was seeping in through the gaps from underneath the door and he could see the city skyline glittering below him from the huge glass windows inside the office.

It took Oikawa less than 30 seconds to log into Hoshino’s laptop and about another three minutes to hack into the company’s mainframe. The file transfer from the laptop was already ongoing when Oikawa’s fingers faltered on the keyboard, his eyes widening as the log file popped up and showed exactly what he had been expecting to see- large sums of money transfer to some offshore accounts, hidden in plain sight- clearly overlooked by anyone unless they knew exactly what they were looking for.

For a few seconds, Oikawa’s heart thumped wildly in his chest as he stared at the screen- his theory was looking more and more plausible by the second and from the looks of it, Kageyama had clearly figured it all out a long time back. _“Contrary to what you might believe, I am not exactly useless.”-_ The words Kageyama had spoken to him so many months ago, in what seemed like another lifetime, came back loud and clear in his mind and he couldn’t help chuckling at the memory.

“Don’t go crazy on me Oikawa.” Miya’s irksome voice grated in his ear. “Laughing to oneself for no good reason is a very clear indication of impending- “

“Can you stop talking?” Oikawa hissed, cutting him off midsentence. Miya cackled, like the evil snake that he was and not for the first time, Oikawa found himself wondering how on earth had Kageyama even managed to work with this idiot for so long without trying to poison him by now. Maybe he can do them all a favor and _accidently_ stab Miya on the face- he was pretty sure Tsukishima would be more than happy to help him hide the body if needed.

The icon on the laptop screen flashed just then, notifying that the file transfers have been completed and Oikawa quickly logged off and shut the laptop down. The countdown on his glasses showed that he had about 7 minutes left to get out; that gave him enough leeway to make his way back to the roof before the security cameras came back online.

“I am done here.” Oikawa whispered, walking towards the door. “I should be out in another 5 minutes. How are things looking there?”

“She’s looking hot.” Miya whistled appreciatively. “You sure she is an enemy agent? I mean I wouldn’t mind- “

“Focus Dammit!” Oikawa snapped. He was just about to pull the door open when the thermal sensors on his glasses blinked on and three heat signatures showed up. Oikawa stopped and cautiously backed off. “It looks like I have got company.” He mumbled, the heat map on his glasses lighting up like a beacon, showing three people moving towards the office.

“How many?” 

“Three.” Oikawa looked around the office quickly, searching for any place he could hide in. “They might be heading somewhere else but somehow, I don’t think that’s the case.” His eyes fell on the coat closet in the room and he looked up towards the high ceiling, a plan quickly formulating in his brain.

“Ok, my earlier estimate of 5 minutes was wrong.” Oikawa spoke in a low voice and silently stepped in the shadows next to the door, his back pressed against the wall. He could now see the three heat figures standing outside the office room, one figure reaching out towards the doorknob while the remaining two stood back, flanking the first. Oikawa tapped the hinges on his glasses and deactivated them. “I should be out in another 4 minutes 30 seconds instead.”

The lock on the door held when the person on the other side tried to open it. Oikawa took his glasses off and put them in one of the inside pockets of his security guard uniform; and then he waited patiently, slowly counting down the seconds in his head.

The lock rattled again and then suddenly opened with a loud click. Oikawa had a second to register the fact that they had the key to the lock just as the door slid open and a burly man stepped inside, his hand raised and Oikawa could clearly see the 9mm handgun clutched in his grip, pointed straight ahead. _Interesting handgun_ , Oikawa thought, and he aimed his kick at the wrist of the man and the gun flew out of his grasp, clattering somewhere on the floor in the dark.

The man let out a surprised yelp of pain and Oikawa did not give him a chance to recover; he caught hold of the man’s outstretched arm and swung him around, smashing his face hard on the wall while at the same instant, he kicked the door shut on the face of the second person who had tried to follow the first one in. The door rebounded off the head of the second man, clearly hitting him with enough force to stun him for a moment and he staggered back, dropping his gun, and stumbled onto the third person who was standing right behind him.

Oikawa immediately released his grip on the first guy, who slumped down wordlessly to the floor and the next second, Oikawa reached out and grabbed onto the wrist of the second guy and yanked him inside the room. He kicked the door shut again and kept it shut this time by slamming the second guy face first on the door, a splatter of blood staining the wood where his face made contact. The man dropped on to the floor without a sound.

The door immediately began to swing open again, but Oikawa was already moving, pulling out his gun and crouching on one knee, his left hand reaching out to support the weight of his right wrist as he snapped the gun towards the door, finger already tightening around the trigger when the door finally swung open and – there was no one standing outside.

Oikawa blinked at the empty space for a few seconds. Instantaneously, he was back on his feet, taking cover behind the wall and at the same time, pulling up his glasses from the inside pocket of his uniform. He put them on, tapped the hinges to activate them and immediately scanned his surroundings.

There was nothing- no heat signatures, no infrared radiation: no one was around.

Oikawa froze.

“Hello?” he asked, uncertain. It was not like anyone would reply. No one was that much of an idiot.

“Are you talking to me?” Miya answered in the silence. Scratch that. One idiot did reply.

“No” Oikawa sighed, lowering his weapon. “No, I am not. Anyway, it looks like the third person ran away.”

“Oh? Just in time I would say. Hoshino is finally making a move.”

A thrill of excitement ran through Oikawa’s body at those words, almost making his blood thrum in response. _Did you hear that, Tobio? -_ He thought fiercely, a savage grin lighting up his face. _Like it or not, I am coming for you. You better start running faster, you impertinent bastard!_

* * *

_ **Day 715** _

If there was one thing that Oikawa should have learned after being in this profession for so long, it was that patience was a virtue. Wait long enough and good things will happen- and based on what Iwaizumi had been telling him all these years, he would have done well to remember that fact. “Try it Trashykawa- it might do wonders for your life.” Iwaizumi had told him judiciously, all those months ago, when Oikawa had nearly given himself a brain aneurysm trying to wait in line to get his driver’s license renewed.

“But Iwa chan!” Oikawa had bleated dourly, his mop of hair sticking out all over the place, looking remarkably similar to an angry bird’s nest. He had to sacrifice his carefully styled locks that day, since he had been painfully clutching his own hair, trying to keep his hands occupied so that he wouldn’t do something rash with them- like give in to the temptation and punch his way up the line.

Now that he thought about it, Oikawa had never really had the time for patience. He liked to think of himself more as a man of action; he had to be constantly doing something- moving around or talking or thinking or planning- anything to be on his feet or to keep his brain engaged. That was one of the reasons he absolutely abhorred stakeout and surveillance missions. And one of the reasons he was going to punch Kageyama’s face hard enough to break his jaw once he got his hands on him.

For it was because of Kageyama’s fault that Oikawa was now sitting in a train, seven rows behind the man in the long black coat that he had been tailing for the past three days. Oikawa had surreptitiously sipped his coffee, hidden behind a tall potted plant in the café this morning, as the man he followed had sat on one of the corner tables, quietly drinking his tea. Oikawa had kept his distance and had walked at least fifteen feet behind the man, watched him eat a sandwich from one of the street vendor stalls and then followed him into the train station.

For a few seconds, Oikawa had nearly lost sight of his target before catching a glimpse of the man on one of the platforms, a trace of his black coat disappearing behind one of the doors of a train. Oikawa hardly had enough time to think; he had rushed to the nearest ticket booth and bought a ticket, managing to get on board just as the train was about to leave the platform.

Since then, he had kept his eyes on the man, but for the past two hours, his target had done nothing more exciting than doze off in his seat. Oikawa frowned and looked down at the ticket stub in his hands; when he had left his hotel room this morning, he wasn’t planning on taking a three-hour long train ride to another city. But if his deductions were correct, all the evidence pointed to the fact that today was the day the man would finally be making his move and, in the process, will be leading Oikawa another step closer to Kageyama.

And for that to happen, Oikawa needed to be patient. Wait for the man to make a move-

Oikawa sighed, looking outside the window. The scenery around them was no longer centered around the concrete buildings of the city and had long given way to the green pastures of the countryside, dotted here and there with fields of bright yellow sunflowers as the train chugged along its tracks.

“Stupid Tobio” he grumbled, crushing the ticket stub in his hand and stuffing it inside his coat pocket “I hate you.”

His heart twisted at his own words. 

* * *

_ **Day 719** _

“Kageyama is leaving a trail of bodies behind” Oikawa stated calmly, squinting at the sunset through the window of his room at the roadside motel. “It’s discreet, very nicely done in fact- to anyone else, it might seem like some very random and unrelated tragedies or murders, but they are all connected and clearly pivotal to what Sakusa is doing.”

“And you are sure you know what Sakusa is doing?” Ushijima did not sound convinced.

“I have an idea.” Oikawa admitted cautiously. It was more than an idea at that point and if he were being honest with himself, he would say that he had at least 90 percent confidence that he was correct. And if he were correct, that meant he would be running across Kageyama soon. 

“Shimizu managed to buy us more time. Don’t do anything reckless.”

“Define reckless.”

“Tooru” Ushijima growled on the phone. “Don’t make this more difficult than it already is.”

“Yes Boss.” Oikawa lied smoothly. It wasn’t like he was planning on making things difficult; he just didn’t trust himself to react in a calm and logical manner if he happened to come across Kageyama. He had been running on pure adrenaline for the past two weeks, the thrill of the chase driving him to push himself to the limit. There was no way in hell he was going to lose to that blue eyed bastard- not when he had been so blatantly challenged. And now that he was so close- _so close_ \- that he could almost smell his prey, he was too overwrought at that point to listen to reason or logic. 

Logic was overrated anyway. It can go fuck itself.

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. Ushijima sounded like he had already resigned himself to failure when he finally said, “I don’t believe you.”

Well, that made two of them.

* * *

_ **Day 721** _

It was way past sunset when Oikawa finally arrived at the diner.

Just an ordinary run of the mill diner, located near the highway, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but vast open fields of corn and a gas station right next to it. The fading neon lights outside the diner spelled out ‘Sakanoshita Restaurant’ in fluorescent blue and Oikawa observed the door thoughtfully, from inside the driver’s side of the old pickup truck he had been driving. The night was humid to the point of being uncomfortable and there was a steady gust of warm wind blowing around, valiantly trying to muffle the sounds of the large 18-wheeler trucks roaring down the highway.

Oikawa drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, contemplating his next move, his brows furrowing in deep thought. If he were correct, this was where his chase would finally come to an end; and if he were correct, in all likelihood, Kageyama was probably looking at him right now through his sniper scope, from at least half a mile away if not more.

Making up his mind finally, Oikawa stepped out of the car. A sudden gust of wind picked up the one fallen leaf on the ground near his feet and whipped it up in the air, sending it spiraling down the parking lot.

Oikawa walked up to the entrance and opened the door to the diner. A blast of loud music along with the pungent smell of tap beer and greasy oily food walloped his senses as soon as he stepped inside and he noted vaguely that for a diner located on such an isolated stretch of the highway, it sure was crowded, almost packed to the brim.

Oikawa quickly looked around the place and he couldn’t help feeling a sense of disappointment – chasing after Kageyama for so long, across the globe from one country to the next, only for it to end up here- a truly unremarkable place to be the culmination of this nightmare in his opinion- it just felt like such an anticlimax. Oikawa’s eyes were finally drawn straight towards the person sitting in a booth at the back end of the diner and he could immediately feel a rush of vindication sear through his chest, eroding through his disappointment in an instant.

_And that, Tobio, is what I call ‘checkmate’_ \- he thought savagely, walking towards the booth.

“Yoo-hoo Sakusa san.” Oikawa beamed.

Sakusa Kiyoomi looked up at him from his booth with inscrutable empty eyes, the lower half of his face covered with a white mask, the hands wrapped around the empty coffee cup clad in leather gloves.

“You are a difficult man to find.” Oikawa smoothly slid into the seat in front of him, signaling for the waitress with his hand. “And it’s a bit too late in the night for coffee, won’t you say?”

Oikawa had seen pictures of Sakusa Kiyoomi of course– the image of his face had seared itself into Oikawa’s very consciousness - that mop of wavy black hair that fell in curly tendrils across his forehead, those intense black eyes, so devoid of emotions that they looked like the pits of Tartarus itself. But nothing could have realistically prepared him for what it was like to meet the actual man in person.

Sakusa Kiyoomi exuded power- domination and complete control over his surroundings even without saying a single word or moving a single muscle. Oikawa could immediately understand why this man in front of him was the best the agency had to offer and why Kageyama was so obsessed with this person, and that thought, more than anything, brought that bitter taste to his mouth – the bitter tase of jealousy. 

“Oikawa Tooru” Sakusa nodded at him, slightly raising his coffee cup, and pointing towards him in acknowledgement. “I was wondering when you would show up.”

“Oh?” Oikawa raised an eyebrow. “I am flattered you know my name. I don’t think I have ever had the pleasure of working with you. You know- before you turned traitor to your own country.”

Something like a flicker of amusement passed through Sakusa’s eyes. “Fair enough” he hummed. “I make it my business to know who Kageyama is hanging around with now a days; and seems like you do a pretty decent job as my replacement.”

Oh, Oikawa liked this guy.

The waitress stopped over at the booth just then and handed Oikawa a menu. “I will have what he is having.” Oikawa pointed at Sakusa, who continued to look at him as if he were a mildly interesting fly that had just walked into his web and he was contemplating what to do with him.

“Since you are here” Sakusa began once the waitress had walked away “that can only mean two things.”

“You are as clever as they say then” Oikawa casually stretched his long legs, folding his arms across his chest. “And pray tell me what those two things are?” 

“Well, I obviously failed to kill Kageyama-”

“Not for lack of trying.”

“And you have obviously figured out what I am doing here-”

“If it makes you feel any better, you didn’t make it easy.”

Sakusa narrowed his eyes, his gaze blatantly studying Oikawa’s face for a few long seconds. He leaned forward slowly. “Yes, I do believe I did not make it easy. And that’s why I am honestly impressed that you are here right now, sitting in front of me.”

“Flattery is going to get you nowhere” Oikawa said serenely. “But you are welcome to keep trying.”

Sakusa let out a huff of laughter and immediately the skin on Oikawa’s arms broke out in goosebumps and he could feel the hair at the back of his neck rise on its end. This son of a bitch was fucking dangerous; Oikawa already knew that, but what he hadn’t expected was the insane rush of exhilaration that roared through his veins in approval at the sense of danger that Sakusa radiated. It felt like a drug, intoxicating his senses and instantly, Oikawa was hooked.

“Gotta hand it to Kiyoko. She sure knows how to pick her agents.” Sakusa drawled.

The waitress carried over a tray to their table and put down a large cup of steaming black coffee in front of Oikawa before moving on to the next table. Oikawa picked up the coffee, cradling it in his palms, the heat of the hot liquid seeping into his hands through the thick ceramic of the cup as he took a sip.

“Was she the one who recruited you?” Oikawa asked, curious.

“As a matter of fact, she did.”

“Ah” Oikawa nodded wisely. “Just goes to show that everyone makes mistakes.”

“What do you want Agent?” Sakusa had not moved an inch or raised his voice but the effect was instantaneous - the atmosphere abruptly turned menacing and Oikawa smiled fiercely, exalted at the promise of violence that charged the air between them. “If you are looking for a sob story-”

“No.” Oikawa shook his head. “You are not someone who would do something so extreme like this and then have second thoughts about it. You might have your inane reasons, and I am not interested- a traitor is a traitor, and I don’t give a damn as to why.”

Sakusa’s eyes gleamed rapaciously, his attention completely fixed on Oikawa now. “Oh? Then why are you here? You cannot arrest me, there is no extradition treaty between our countries. You have no authority here and even if you wanted to take me down, you would have never accosted me in such a public place.”

“True on both accounts” Oikawa conceded.

The music in the jukebox changed to a slow tango in the silence that followed. Oikawa sat quietly, sipping his coffee as he let Sakusa scrutinize him, those dark bottomless eyes sending a slight shiver of anticipation through his veins; the intensity emanating from Sakusa forcefully reminding him of the time Oikawa had first witnessed Kageyama interrogate one of their suspects. _So, this is where he gets it from_ – he thought mildly.

Sakusa finally leaned back on his seat, his eyes still fixed on Oikawa’s face. “I see. This is personal.” He stated in a calm voice.

“Bingo” Oikawa said softly, putting the coffee cup down.

“I can see the similarities between you and Kageyama.” The bright lights inside the restaurant couldn’t camouflage the predatory gleam in Sakusa’s eyes as he lazily pointed one leather clad finger at Oikawa’s face. “Danger gets you high, Agent. But be careful or you might come crashing down to the ground. And we can’t have that now, can we?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Oikawa tilted his head to the side, leveling Sakusa with a contemplative glare. “I guess, we will find out, but I am not sure if you will still be around to witness that.”

“Threats?” Sakusa asked, a smidgen of a warning bleeding through his voice. 

“I don’t make empty threats” Oikawa dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand, as if offended. “I wouldn’t be here talking to you otherwise, would I? I take my threats very seriously.” He wagged a finger at him, looking amused.

“You came all the way here to tell me that?” Sakusa raised an eyebrow.

Oikawa laughed- A shrill abrupt sound that would have chilled the blood in anyone else’s veins but Sakusa just continued to look at him, dispassionate. “The very fact that I found you here, against all odds, should tell you how serious I am.” Oikawa snarled; all hint of amusement gone from his face. “There is nowhere you can hide from me, no plan you can make that I won’t be able to blow apart at the seams.”

“And what is preventing me from blowing apart your brains right now?”

“Why don’t you give it a shot?” Oikawa shrugged, watching him intently. “I would love to see you try.”

Sakusa however, didn’t rise to the bait. He didn’t move, didn’t say anything, didn’t even blink. _Damn, he is good_ \- Oikawa thought grudgingly.

“I will take you up on that challenge” Sakusa said slowly. “Next time we meet.”

They stared at each other from across the table for a moment, the silence between them crackling with tension. 

“It’s good that we talked then.” Oikawa eventually broke the stalemate. He stood up, pulling out a couple of notes from his back pocket. “I don’t think there will be much talking involved if we ever cross paths again.” He kept the money on the table, next to his half empty cup of coffee and got out from the booth.

“No” Sakusa agreed casually. And then - “Tell Kageyama I said ‘hi.’”

Instantly, Oikawa saw red.

“You should thank your lucky stars that those incompetent assassins you sent after Kageyama were unable to finish their job.” Oikawa growled. He put his hand on the table, leaned forward slowly till his mouth was right next to Sakusa’s ear. “If you ever try such a stunt again,” he whispered, his voice deathly cold. “I will personally hunt you down and rip you apart, limb from limb, with my bare hands. And that- Mr. Sakusa Kiyoomi- is not a threat; it’s a promise.”

* * *

_ **Day 722** _

Low clouds and squalls of driving rain had turned the evening sky quite dark by the time Oikawa had managed to reach the safehouse. Even though Oikawa had very strong personal opinions on the whole M.A.L.A.R.K.E.Y nonsense, he had to admit that it did come with its own benefits. The safehouse he was currently standing in front of, for example - One among many such safehouses littered across the world, and now, thanks to M.A.L.A.R.K.E.Y, he could easily access them.

A sharp whip of rain and sleet stung his face and he shivered, shutting the door shut behind him just as a flash of lightning streaked across the horizon. The roar of the thunderclap that followed almost rattled the hinges off the door frame and he heaved a sigh of relief when the lights flicked on at the turn of a switch. The safehouse was relatively small, just two rooms adjacent to each other down a long corridor and for some inexplicable reason, the whole place had the damp smell of a construction site. Oikawa ruffled his slightly damp hair with his fingers, droplets of water flying off everywhere as he strode inside the building. This was it- the moment of truth; the end of the road for him but if he was wrong… he took in a deep breath. Well, it was too late to let doubts creep in now.

The bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling flickered for a few second as another rumble of thunder rolled past. Oikawa’s eyes were however fixed on the lights spilling out onto the dark passage from the open doors at the end of the corridor. Oikawa had known all along that if he played the game right, that if he managed to put together all the pieces of the puzzle - then Kageyama would be waiting for him in that safehouse. He reached the door and his feet staggered to a stop automatically.

Kageyama was sitting on the single sofa chair in the middle of the room, watching him, his long legs languidly stretched out in front of him. He had his gun pointed towards the floor, dangling loosely by the fingertips of his right hand; almost careless, as if he couldn’t be bothered to put in the effort it might take to hold on to his weapon.

Oikawa couldn’t move. And it took him a while to realize that he couldn’t breathe either.

The silence in the room was absolute; only broken by the faint and steady drumming of the raindrops splattering on to the rooftop.

“Tooru” Kageyama addressed him casually, the tilt of his head as he rested his chin on top of his left hand almost imperceptible. Even though he was sitting sprawled out on the chair, the slight glint in his blue eyes gave a sharp and sinister edge to his features.

Oikawa had to remind himself forcefully to breath, something which was getting difficult with the way his chest constricted around his windpipe under Kageyama’s unremitting stare. He stepped inside the room, reeling a bit from the whiplash of suddenly coming face to face with the ghost he had been chasing for what seemed like his whole life.

“I see you got my message.” Oikawa said.

“The one you left by showing up at the diner and sitting next to Sakusa?” Kageyama asked slowly. “Yes, I got your message.” He looked disinterested as always, but Oikawa could see the displeasure simmering behind that indifference.

“That was the only way I had to stop you from doing something stupid.” Oikawa shrugged. He pulled up the desk chair and turned it around, sitting backwards on it and folded his arms on top of the back rest. He tried to ignore the slow throb of annoyance and irritation steadily crawling its way up his stomach.

“By stupid you mean blasting Sakusa’s brains out?”

“Pretty much, yeah.” Oikawa didn’t like the tone of Kageyama’s voice.

Kageyama didn’t say anything for a while; his eyes never leaving Oikawa’s face, pinning him down with his gaze. “How did you find me, Tooru?” he asked finally.

“Technically, you found me.” Oikawa pointed out.

“You know what I mean.” Kageyama frowned and Oikawa couldn’t help the pang of longing at that familiar expression.

“Well, it is a long story” Oikawa leaned forward on the backrest. “But let’s save the stories for another day, shall we? You owe me an explanation first, Tobio. And based on whether I like your explanation or not, I will decide on how many bones to break in your body.”

Kageyama’s eyes were indecipherable – just like Sakusa’s had been. A hot flash of anger at the memory ripped through him but he held on to his temper by a precarious grip. Oikawa had been in the job long enough to know that whenever rage obscured his rationality and unsettled his equilibrium, the consequences had never been pleasant.

“There is really nothing to explain.” Kageyama stood up, offhandedly tossing his gun onto the side table. 

Oikawa tried not to react, not to respond to the sudden hammering of his enraged heart, the way the ground beneath his feet seemed to have disappeared in an instant, leaving him suspended in disbelief. “Are you for real?” he gritted his teeth, dropping his arms to the sides, cracks appearing in his composure. “Are you _for fucking_ real?”

“I should be the one to ask you that.” Kageyama walked to the other end of the room, physically trying to put some distance between them. “You not only managed to track me down but also successfully anticipated my every move. And all in what – twenty two days?”

“Twenty two days, nine hours and thirty-seven minutes” Oikawa snapped. “Do try to keep up Tobio.”

Kageyama gaped at him, the look on his face a bizarre mix of fondness and hunger but it lasted only for a few seconds, leaving Oikawa to wonder if he was starting to imagine things. “Right.” He spoke just as a crack of thunder resounded in the distance. “And what were you planning to do once you caught me?”

What was he planning to do? Oikawa was planning to scream at him, punch him for being so reckless and stubborn. He was planning to drag him back home and strangle him for forcing him to work with Miya; to break his jaw for making his life a living hell chasing after him-

“The Director wants you back.” Oikawa replied instead, fastidiously keeping his voice neutral so as not to betray the storm in his heart. “I have strict orders from Ushijima to take you back home and make sure you don’t create an international incident by indulging in your petty revenge.”

“The world will be a much safer place without Sakusa. I am doing everyone a favor.”

Oikawa swore under his breath. “And how is that Tobio? Who are you doing a favor by trying to throw your life away?”

The glare that Kageyama leveled at him then was incendiary and Oikawa could feel the grip on his own temper fray at the edges. “You set out to be a martyr” Oikawa accused, getting up from the chair and kicking it to the side. It crashed against the desk; the workstation monitors on it rattling with the force of the impact. “You are systematically taking down Sakusa’s contacts - his international connections, leaving a trail of bodies for me to follow.”

“I didn’t –”

“Oh, but you did.” Oikawa snarled and he marched towards Kageyama, his voice trembling with barely suppressed agitation. “And you know we have no jurisdiction on this – no government of any country would authorize such an operation within their nation’s boundaries, without solid proof, no matter how many strings the Director pulls. It would have taken years of surveillance and intelligence gathering to come up with enough evidence to go after these men.” He stopped right in front of Kageyama. “And that’s why you took matters in your own hands, didn’t you?”

“You have no idea what Sakusa is capable of” Kageyama bared his teeth, taking a step forward but Oikawa stood his ground. “We have already wasted so much time trying to do this by the book and look what that got us – nothing!”

“You can’t just go about killing people in cold blood” Oikawa’s clenched jaw was starting to hurt.

“People?” Kageyama asked, incredulous. “These are terrorists, Tooru! They are hiding in plain sight, taking advantages of the legal loopholes! They do not play by the rules and I will be damned if I let them get away with it!” The fury radiating from Kageyama was palpable. “I had made up my mind the day I woke up in the hospital. There is only one way to stop Sakusa and that is to go after him myself – outside the law! He is not going to stop until I dismantle his organization and put a bullet through his head.”

“And let me guess - your backup plan was me?” Oikawa hissed, jabbing a finger on to Kageyama’s chest, the blind rage pounding through his head was making it difficult for him to think straight. “You wanted me to find you so that I can finish what you started! You wanted me to follow you! Like some dog-”

“No!” Kageyama snapped. “No, I did not!”

“Oh yeah?” Oikawa’s laugh was sharp and brutal. “You knew this was a one-way ticket, with the very real possibility that you might not make it- that your foolish quest for revenge can lead to your death. Going toe to toe with Sakusa”- He spat the name out savagely, his mouth twisting in disgust – “could very well end with him putting a bullet through that thick skull of yours!”

Kageyama opened his mouth, outrage clouding his otherwise inexpressive façade. “I don’t care if I die-”

Oikawa grabbed him by the front of his shirt, viciously yanking Kageyama towards him. “You do not get to decide that” Oikawa snarled, his eyes blazing with anger, the indignation in Kageyama’s furious gaze hardly registering. “Your life belongs to me. To me! And only I get to decide what to do with it, not you!”

A brief flash of something like bewilderment blazed through Kageyama’s face at those words but Oikawa was not done yet. “Me!” He repeated ferociously – “Do you understand?” There was a strange buzzing in his ears and his grip on Kageyama’s shirt was so tight, his knuckles were going white. All the resentment that had been building up inside Oikawa for all these days – the helplessness, the intense stress, the stupid longing- everything was bubbling over, messing with his head, dangerously pushing the limits of Oikawa’s rigid control over his own temper.

There were a few moments of incredulous silence that lasted for a second, a minute- an hour maybe; Oikawa was not really sure. Kageyama’s eyes had the dazed look of someone who had just been clobbered on the head with a baseball bat and he was looking at Oikawa like he had never seen him before in his life, like he was some apparition that had stolen Kageyama’s ability to speak.

“Yes” Kageyama finally agreed, wrapping his fingers carefully around Oikawa’s hand, his voice coming out in a low whisper.

Oikawa growled; his grip vicelike. He could barely hear his own thoughts over the frantic beating of his heart, making it impossible to comprehend Kageyama’s words through the noise in his head.

“Calm down, Tooru.” Kageyama’s expression on his face hovered somewhere between concern and restrained but the hold he had on Oikawa’s hand was gentle yet firm.

And it burnt his skin.

Oikawa wrenched his hands free, taking a few steps back, all the blood rushing to his head at once. A powerful wave of emotions swept through him- churning through his gut, thundering through his heart, decimating his sense of being grounded- he couldn’t really distinguish anymore between anger and terror or whatever it was that was squeezing the air right out of his lungs.

“You have no idea-” Oikawa exhaled “No idea what I went through.”

Kageyama went deathly still at those words, as if turned to stone.

“When we found you, drenched in blood on the kitchen floor.” Oikawa couldn’t get the words out of his mouth. He swallowed heavily. “I thought I was too late.”

Absolute silence greeted his words, so thick that even the distant roar of the thunder outside couldn’t seem to shatter it. Kageyama was looking at him, terrified. “Tooru…”

“You have no idea” Oikawa repeated, his voice regaining some of its vigor. “You selfish bastard!”

Kageyama took a tentative step towards him. “Tooru…”

Oikawa’s heart was smashing against his ribcage, trying to break free of his chest. “I thought you had died” he whispered, scared to death at what he was going to admit. His throat seemed to close up on him when he finally said “It felt like I had died too.”

Instantly, Kageyama pulled him into his arms. Oikawa let out a gasp of surprise which was muffled at once when Kageyama hauled him impossibly closer by a hand around his waist and buried his nose in Oikawa’s hair. “My life belongs to you.” Kageyama mumbled. “I am yours.”

Oikawa’s world tilted on its axis and he almost crumpled on to his knees. “Do you – do you realize what you are saying?”

In response, Kageyama gripped him by his hair, tilted Oikawa’s head back and kissed him on his mouth.

Oikawa’s heart stopped and then restarted with a howl. And abruptly Oikawa was engulfed in flames; his blood was searing, his brain was melting, and his legs could barely support his weight.

Kageyama’s lips were hot against his, demanding, impatient. Oikawa shivered, his brain short circuiting when Kageyama deepened the kiss and pushed his tongue inside Oikawa’s helpless mouth. Oikawa latched on to his tongue, sucking it fervently, his knuckles white against Kageyama’s shirt, hanging on for dear life. Oikawa couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything and everything was heating up- Kageyama’s tongue sliding inside his mouth was setting him on fire. And Oikawa couldn’t get enough. He was kissing Kageyama back with equal fervor, his mouth open and hungry beneath Kageyama’s, his fingers tangling in black hair, grip painfully tight, kissing him greedily and at the same time, craving for more, already addicted to the taste of Kageyama’s mouth.

Kageyama’s fingers gripped Oikawa’s hair and he pulled his head back painfully, breaking the kiss. Oikawa gasped for air, his head spinning, eyes unfocussed. Before he could take another lungful, Kageyama angled Oikawa’s head back and to the side, to give himself better access to Oikawa’s neck. Oikawa’s body jerked sharply in Kageyama’s arms and he cried out softly as Kageyama ravenously licked and sucked and placed feverish open-mouthed kisses up his neck. Oikawa couldn’t help it; he moaned, the sound weak and needy, the brazen display of unapologetic want from Kageyama making his toes curl. “Oh fuck.” he whimpered. “Oh fuck...”

“God-” Kageyema groaned, kissing a trail of fire up Oikawa’s neck. “Tooru.” He rasped. He let go of Oikawa’s hair and wrapped his hands around the small of his back, pulling them even closer together, his fingers digging painfully in Oikawa’s hips. “I am yours-” He dipped his head lower to bite on Oikawa’s collar bone “I am yours.”

Oikawa was delirious with want, his hands frantically gripping at Kageyama’s hair. “Yes” Oikawa choked. “Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes!” He pulled Kageyama’s face up to meet his eyes - blue eyes glazed over, pupils blown wide with desire. Oikawa surged forward and brought their mouths crashing back together, kissing him deeply, wanting him, wanting him, wanting him madly and when Kageyama kissed him back with matching urgency, all he could do was scramble for purchase and give in to the uncontrollable desire to let Kageyama burn him, to set him aflame, to incinerate him and reduce him to nothing, to nothing but to smoldering ashes.

* * *


End file.
